


knocked me off the ground

by Windmire



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Capes, Background Koriand'r/Donna Troy, M/M, Mentioned Stephanie Brown/Cassandra Cain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-08-27 12:21:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 36,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8401477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Windmire/pseuds/Windmire
Summary: "It's Jason Todd you'd be working with. You remember Jason, right?"
"He's probably hoping you remember him."For his best friend's wedding, Dick's more than willing to double as best man and co-wedding planner, even if it means going back to the city he's been avoiding for years on end. Then he meets the other best man and co-wedding planner and falling so hard and so fast was so not part of the plan.





	1. the one that i'd been waiting for

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a much more serious story I started in June, featuring a murder mystery, missing persons, and wedding plans (for entirely different people) put on hold. Then, by August, this happened. Because I don't even know if I'm capable of being serious for too long at once anymore. And apparently I wanted an excuse to write something lighthearted and sappy that I didn't have to take too seriously. But it sure broke through my writer's block.

He gets the call early in the morning, just when he's stumbling back from another late shift at work.

It takes him a moment to realize that buzzing sound is his phone in his pocket and another of staring blankly at it for the letters on the screen to rearrange themselves into a name.

 _Donna Troy_.

Dick can only stare at the phone in his hand in confusion as it continues to buzz, once, twice, on and on. Just when he knows it's about to go to voicemail, he swipes a thumb across the screen and lifts it to his ear.

"Donna. What the hell? It's five am."

" _Good morning to you too, honey._ " And how cheerful Donna sounds this early in the morning should be illegal. " _How's my best friend in the whole world doing?_ "

"Tired," he grunts, taking a step backwards to let himself drop down onto his couch. "I just got back from work."

" _Yeah, with your crazy schedule, I figured I'd catch you now, not while you were still at the station. And since I'm on my way to a shoot anyway..._ "

Now that she mentions it, he can hear the wind outside her car on Donna's end. She always keeps the driver's side window open. The thought's enough to make him smile, putting him in mind of many an afternoon spent in the passenger seat of her car, driving across half of Jersey and New York.

"A photo shoot at five am sounds awful, Donna," he finally says, groaning. "You should be sleeping."

" _I still enjoy it._ " And he can practically _hear_ the shrug in her voice, before it turns quieter, thoughtful. " _And I'm gonna need to save up now anyway._ "

"Yeah? Why?"

" _I... I got a job opportunity. We're expanding and... My boss wants to send me there for a year. It's..._ " She blows out a breath. " _It's a really great opportunity._ "

"And where's _there_?" He asks, a little reluctant. He doesn't have a great feeling about this.

Donna hums, a soft sound over the line. " _Halfway across the world. England."_

Wait.

It takes him a moment, for the gears in his brain to slowly whir back to life, for the words to arrange themselves into a coherent thought. All at once, he's wide awake.

"Are you serious?! I..." He draws in a breath, shaking his head. Whoa, _whoa_. Okay. "Jesus, congratulations, Donna. You're... When?"

" _In June_ ," Donna says, quietly now.

And Dick feels his heart sink to his feet. He's happy for her, honestly, but her going away in less than four months?

"Oh. Yeah, all right. That's great," he manages to say. And he means it. Honestly. "I just..."

" _I'll miss you, too, honey_ ," she says, as if reading his mind. " _But it'll only be for a year, all right? And I'm not going to be alone either, you know._ "

"Yeah. Yeah, Kori's going to go with you?" And, wow, that. Would be two of his closest friends going away for a year.

" _She's working something out with her job already_ ," Donna agrees. Suddenly, her voice turns sly, as she says, " _She didn't want to stay behind without her fiancée._ "

Fiancée.

"Fiancée?!" Dick lets out a disbelieving laugh and slumps against the back of his couch. "Since when are you anyone's fiancée?"

Donna's answering laugh comes over the line, bright and clear. " _Since Kori proposed last night. You're the first to know!_ " Her voice turns teasing, that fond mocking voice she seems to reserve just for him, as she continues, " _About both things. And I was nice enough to call now and not last night while you were at work!_ "

"Jesus. Congratulations, Donna," he says again, running his free hand through his hair, outright grinning now. "Seriously, I'm so happy for you."

" _Thanks, Dick._ " She clears her throat, her voice turning softer, barely audible over the sound of the wind through her car window. " _So. We thought of getting married at city hall, then some kind of get-together, just us and friends, before we leave. And I want you to be my best man._ "

Dick freezes, his hand tight around his phone. "I... Uh. What?"

" _I want you to be my best man, Dick._ " Her voice turns warm, fond. " _I wanted to ask you face to face, but... Work._ " She sighs. " _We've been best friends since we were kids, Dick._ " And if her voice wavers, he doesn't point it out. " _I love you more than almost anyone. Who else could be my best man?_ "

"Donna..." And it's gotta be the fact he's running on so little sleep, absolutely has to be. Because he finds himself matching that waver in her voice, covering his eyes with his free hand and blinking back the stinging behind his eyelids. God, he misses his best friend. Even only a state away, he misses her. What's he going to do when she's halfway around the world? "I thought you'd have wanted to have Raven as your maid of honor."

Donna laughs, and if it sounds a little wet... Well, he's not pointing that out either.

" _See, both Kori and I wanted Raven as our maid of honor. But we couldn't decide who gets her. So neither of us does._ "

"That's fair." Dick snorts, letting his hand fall away from his eyes. "And she'd have said no anyway."

" _Dick!_ " Donna laughs again. " _Yeah, you know how shy she is._ "

Neither says anything for a moment, a comfortable silence falling between them.

" _So._ " Donna's the first to break the silence. " _You'll be my best man?_ "

Dick looks up at his ceiling. It's not even a question, is it? He doesn't even have to think about it. "Of course. I'd be honored, Donna."

" _Thank you_ ," she says all in a rush, as if she was just holding back the words. " _This means so much to me, Dick. You don't even know._ "

He smiles. "I think I have an idea."

Before she can say anything else, maybe her goodbyes for the moment, maybe something about being gone for a _whole year_ , Dick goes on, "Hey, Donna?"

" _Yeah, Dick?_ "

"You're not changing your name, right? Donna Anders would sound awful." He purses his lips in thought and adds, "So would Kori Troy."

Donna snorts, what sounds like suppressed giggles coming across the line. " _No! No! No one's taking anyone's last name. Don't worry. My legal name's too long as it is anyway._ "

He scoffs. "Donna Troy-Prince is not that long."

" _Yeah, I guess it can't really compare to Richard John Grayson-Wayne, huh?_ "

Dick rolls his eyes. "Nope."

" _Of course._ " He can hear the smile on her voice. " _Get some sleep. We'll talk later, I just got to the site._ " The grin's audible in her voice. " _We can go over your_ best man duties _later_."

"Yeah, yeah. Call me when you get home." His eyes are beginning to feel heavy again anyway, now that the initial excitement has passed. "So you're gonna be dragging us all up to New York for this, huh?" he asks, stifling a yawn. "It'll be nice to go there."

" _Oh, no,_ " Donna says, a little distracted now. " _We were thinking of getting everyone together in Gotham. It'd be nice for it to be where we all grew up._ "

_Oh._

Gotham.

No, he can't have heard that right.

"Wait, did you just say Goth--"

" _Sorry, Dick! I've gotta go now, I'm here!_ " Donna says abruptly, oblivious to the pit yawning open in Dick's stomach. " _See you later, love you!_ "

She hangs up and Dick.

Yeah. Okay.

He can deal with that.

He can deal with...

Jesus. The wedding's going to be in _Gotham_?!

-

A few hours later, he snaps out of a fitful sleep, the images from his dreams already fading from his mind. He takes a moment to stare up at his ceiling, with the rays of morning sunlight that manage to get through the half-closed blinds lighting up the room. Then he sits up to grab his phone off the bedside table, glancing at the glowing numbers on the screen.

 _9:12AM_ stares back at him.

Dick drops his phone on the sheets next to him and lets out a breath, resting his head in his hands. Only a few hours after he went to bed. _Great._ He wishes he could say it's just thoughts of Gotham messing with his head and his sleep, that he usually sleeps like a freaking baby, but.

No, this is business as usual. He sleeps like shit even at the best of times.

Not that he really thinks the prospect of going to Gotham _didn't_ contribute. Gotham is... difficult. To say the least. And the thought of spending a lot of time there soon...

Donna didn't say anything, of course she didn't. She's probably literally thinking of just the two of them, friends, and family. She probably thinks she and Kori can take care of everything, can get everything ready for a small wedding, but. Their families don't live there anymore, most of their friend group has moved away (all up to New York, together, the not-so-helpful part of his brain supplies), and... 

And an idea is brewing in Dick's head, one that will need someone who can spend a lot of time in Gotham.

And Dick fits the bill.

But.

Gotham.

He grabs his phone again before he can really think about it, thumbing through to scroll through his list of contacts. Near the top, he pauses on a name.

He bites his lip. No. It's not Gotham that's difficult. It's a person he managed to argue with so much and so often he finally stormed out of the city and never went back.

Not his most mature moment ever. Not something so easy that he could blame it all on impulse, write away like the insults they'd hurled at each other in the heat of the moment. He knew what he was doing. And he's still not so sure he regrets it.

It's not like he hasn't seen his family or Gotham friends at all this whole time either. Blüdhaven and Gotham are only half an hour apart, close enough that Cass and Tim can drop by whenever they want, often bringing Damian along with them. Sometimes Duke. Sometimes Alfred. Really. Alfred drops by more than the rest of them combined. And Babs practically lives in his apartment whenever she has business in Blüdhaven.

And it's not like they don't find ways to spend time together anyway, all of them.

Even with the elephant in the room.

Elephants.

Multiple elephants. With names like _Dick won't step foot in Gotham_ and _we're not mentioning_ his _name after you got mad about him again_.

Really. Normal stuff.

And this would be just the chance to take care of them, wouldn't it? If he has to go to Gotham anyway, he could. He could drop by the manor, act the same way they always used to after their arguments: like nothing ever happened.

Or he could just call.

His thumb hovers over the name. He could do that.

But just the thought is like swallowing something bitter. It's giving in like he always did eventually, conceding to what would keep the peace.

It's what he's done with.

With a ragged sigh, Dicks drops the phone on the sheets again, throwing himself down after it. He lasts all of five seconds before he's shoving the pillow over his head, not sure whether he's trying to block out the sunlight or his own thoughts.

Yeah.

Business as usual.

-

A week later finds Dick waiting for Donna outside a diner in Blüdhaven. He's eyeing the door, about to give up and wait for her inside, just to escape the chilly February air, when he hears a familiar voice behind him.

"Dick!"

He whirls around, grinning from the moment he spots Donna, and steps forward to meet her. She instantly envelops him in a hug, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

"It's so good to see you again! It feels like it's been forever!"

He laughs, holding her tight, just for a moment, before letting go. He missed her, too, of course, but... "It's just been two months since Christmas. Not that long."

Well, he's never been the best at showing it. Even if right now he kind of wants nothing more than to hold onto her tightly until she can't go away. _For a whole year_.

"Sure." She grabs his arm to pull him toward the door. "Just two long, long, _eventful_ months."

"Eventful's right," Dick says as she drags him toward a booth, where he sits across from her. "You're getting married now."

And Donna's smile at that? She's beaming, just about the happiest he's ever seen her. "Yeah," she says after a moment, voice soft. "But I can't get married without my best man's help, can I?"

"Guess not. Not since you're dragging us all down to Gotham."

Donna spreads her hands, grinning brightly. "Where else was I gonna have it? And have my family actually approve of it! It'll just be dinner or something anyway. Then you'll be back here in Blüdhaven."

A waitress interrupts them then and they don't really _need_ menus, they've been here enough times to have them memorized. But Dick looks over his anyway, and sees Donna doing the same, before they place their orders.

Dick raises an eyebrow when the waitress turns around, a smile tugging at his lips again. It's the perfect opportunity to bring up the idea that's taken root in his brain. "About that... How do you feel about something slightly bigger, Donna?"

"Define _slightly_." Donna's not quite frowning, but her eyebrows knit together.

"Friends... Family... Extended family." He lists off each word on his fingers, not looking at Donna. "An actual ceremony." He can guess how she's going to respond.

"Dick." Donna shakes her head and she does frown now. "It'd be nice, really nice, but... We're leaving in June. If we get married at the end of May, that's still not enough time for us to..."

"I can take care of it," he cuts in. He reaches out, taking hold of her hand. "I'm right next to Gotham. I can take care of everything easier than you guys could. And it'd just be a simple wedding, nothing complicated."

The drive from New York to South Jersey may not be _that_ far, the wedding he could help them have may not be _that_ complicated, but. It's not like any of their schedules give them that much free time anyway. But being right next to Gotham? And with no real time-consuming obligations besides his job? He's in the perfect position to help.

Even if it means spending so much time in Gotham.

Donna sighs, giving him a look that's half fond, half exasperated. "You really don't have to do that, Dick. You know that, right? It's a lot to do in just the few months before May. Kori and I really are okay with something simple."

"That's not a no."

" _Dick_."

"It's fine, Donna. I want to do this," he goes on, injecting some extra cheer into his voice. The location isn't ideal but. He really does want to help. However he can. "It's been a while since I've been to Gotham anyway, I can spend some time with my brothers and sister. And Alfred."

She gives him another _look_ , but doesn't comment on the member of his family he left out.

There's a reason he hasn't been to Gotham in a while, after all. That fact that it may very well be just part stubbornness by now, on both their parts... is something he can think about some other time.

The waitress returning with their drinks saves him from having to answer that _look_ and, by the time, she leaves again, Donna's speaking again.

"Okay." She shakes her head, expression turning almost wistful. "Okay, I'll talk to Kori and we'll think about it. It's a really nice idea. And it would help us a lot..." An odd smile comes over her face then. "It's not like you'd be alone anyway, if you did it. Kori's best man lives in Gotham, too."

"Wow, you guys _really_ wanted Raven for maid of honor, huh?" He flashes her a grin, his tone teasing. "If you both ended up with a best man instead."

"Don't think we didn't almost argue about who got _you_ as best man," Donna says, deadpan, then chuckles. "He and Kori are good friends anyway. It's Jason Todd you'd be working with. You remember Jason, right?"

Jason?

Dick frowns, the name almost, _almost_ , sounding familiar, like a memory he can almost remember.

"I guess so?" he says and instantly regrets the hesitant tone.

"Really?" Donna asks and her tone is entirely too _interested_ for Dick to trust, the kind of tone he's come to associate with trouble that would have once gotten him grounded for _weeks_. And which would have been mostly Dick's fault anyway. Never let it be said he didn't always have the stranger ideas of the two of them.

"Uh," he says eloquently. "Yeah?"

Donna looks at him in silence, an eyebrow raised. Just when the silence has him on the verge of twitching, she breaks out into a grin. "Oh, Dick," she says, as she covers her mouth with one hand, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "Jason's going to just _hate_ that."

And Dick. Dick can only stare at her questioningly, feeling a little as if he's missed a joke somewhere. "Uh. Was I supposed to remember him?"

Donna waves him off and Dick gets the distinct impression she's laughing at him on the inside. "Actually, no." She straightens up in her chair again, her hands finding her drink. In a calmer tone, she goes on, "On second thought, no. It makes sense you don't remember him." She leans back in her seat again, that same smile he's learned not to trust curling her lips. "He was in the same school as us, but two grades below us, in your sister's class. They were friends," she adds.

"I don't..." He frowns. A friend of Cass'? He's almost sure he'd have met any friend of hers from back then at least once. "Wait." A friend of Cassandra's named Jason. "Was he... That short guy in the drama club? Curly hair?" He taps his fingers against the table. They didn't really run in the same circles, not remotely. The only thing they really had in common was Cass, but. He thinks that sounds about right. "And during our senior year, he showed up out of nowhere to yell at me in front of half the school for something that once?"

"Do you even remember why he was mad at you?" Donna asks, stirring her drink with her straw.

Dick bites his lip and settles for the truth. "No."

Mostly he remembers a guy who barely came up to his shoulders stomping up to him in the hall just as he'd been closing his locker. He can't even remember just what the guy, red-faced and _furious_ had yelled at him, doesn't even remember understanding it then. What he _does_ remember Babs next to him, pulling him away after Jason stomped off.

He thinks he might have avoided Jason after that, but those memories are fuzzy.

Donna tilts her head as she looks at him, amusement in her eyes. "Yeah, I didn't think so. Don't worry. He probably doesn't expect you to remember that either." In an undertone, she goes on, "He's probably hoping you remember _him_ instead."

And there's something just so _knowing_ about her tone that Dick can't help but frown again.

"It'll probably be nice for you guys to meet again, too," she goes on glibly. "He definitely remembers who you are."

The waitress comes back with their food before Dick can say anything in response and Donna just _smiles_ at him, as the woman drops off their plates.

A chill goes up Dick's spine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) All but one of the chapters of this story are already written. I'm just doing some pretty heavy editing/rewriting.  
> 2) This AU takes elements from pre-Flashpoint canon, post-Flashpoint canon, and a little bit of Rebirth. And an even littler bit of other universes. And this time Gotham's set in [spins wheel] New Jersey!  
> 3) I don't know what happened, officer. Next thing I knew everyone was hugging Dick Grayson throughout this fic. It kind of just happened, I swear.  
> 4) This is my first multi-chapter fic, I literally have no idea what the hell I'm doing. But I hope you enjoy! ♥  
> 5) If, for some reason, you enjoyed my inability to shut up, [feel free to drop me a line!](http://bleakeisland.tumblr.com/)


	2. do you ever feel like falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [do you ever feel like falling](https://youtu.be/RO6koYA2poY)/for someone you never thought of falling for
> 
> The playlist I made to listen to while writing this story was nothing but the cheesiest and sappiest songs I could find, what can I say
> 
> Anyway. Thank you so much for all the kudos and comments! Every single one was absolutely _lovely_ to see.
> 
> Now, enter Cass and enter Jason!

Entering Gotham for the first time in years is almost disappointingly anticlimactic.

There's no crack of thunder when he rides his bike into the city limits. The road behind him doesn't collapse, leaving him trapped in Gotham forever, the way it would if his life were suddenly some horror disaster movie.

And he doesn't feel the inescapable urge to run home and apologize.

Dick still can't quite shake off the thought he should turn back, head straight back to Blüdhaven and just wash his hands of Gotham, but he drives in as if it were something he actually did regularly. And being here doesn't exactly feel wrong either. It's not too different from the last time he was here. It's the same old Gotham, still the same dark and gloomy city, and still somehow slightly ( _slightly_ ) cleaner and brighter than Blüdhaven.

But it's familiar in how dreary it is, like... like an old well-loved, moth-eaten coat he just can't bring himself to get rid of. (He's pretty sure he has a coat matching that exact description somewhere in the back of his closet.)

He brakes at a stoplight, draws in a deep breath.

Okay. Maybe he _was_ long overdue a visit. Whatever may have happened in the last few years, this is still the city he lived in since he was eight. It's still the city where he met his family and most of his friends. And he kind of missed it.

It's been a week since Dick's meeting with Donna in the diner and six days since Kori and Donna agreed to his idea. A few more calls to the two of them, and a few texts from Kori, and he's more than ready to start planning his best friend's wedding. And to actually meet Jason Todd.

Meet him again?

Reconnect with him?

Jesus, whatever he's supposed to call meeting up with a guy he only vaguely remembers being spitting mad at him.

But first, he's visiting his family.

The light changes and he grins as he takes the right turn, straight into Coventry and down the road that will take him to Cassandra's apartment building.

All right, Cass. He's seeing Cass first.

He hasn't exactly called her yet, hasn't called anyone in Gotham, really. (Having Kori text him where to meet Jason probably doesn't count, after all.) But being back in Gotham is... It's better to handle it this way, before he's tempted to turn tail and run back to Blüdhaven.

Besides, he's fairly sure Tim knows he's in the city anyway. Dick left Gotham before Cass moved into her own place and Tim seemed like his best bet for finding out her address. And if anyone can figure out Dick's plans for his day off from just a few carefully placed questions about Cass, a comment here and there during one of their regular phone calls, it's Tim.

Dick slows his bike enough to turn down one of the slower side streets, populated more by pedestrians than cars. The buildings still look familiar, still look like the ones lining every other street in Gotham, so much so that it doesn't even matter that this an area he never spent that much time in. He still feels like he's been here thousands of times.

He's arrived in the afternoon, when he knows Cass leaves her apartment, and if he's timed this right, he thinks he should see her just about...

 _There_.

It only takes him a moment to spot the dark-haired woman, wrapped up in a dark coat with a grey dance bag slung over her shoulder, as she closes the front door of an apartment building behind her and steps out onto the sidewalk. 

"Cass!"

Cassandra turns at the sound of her name. She stares at him--and he's close enough already to see her eyebrows rise up to her hairline--before she lets out a laugh, almost as if surprised out of her.

He's waving before he's fully stopped his bike. And by the time he's put down the kickstand and pulled off his helmet, he _knows_ he's grinning stupidly, but he doesn't bother to try to stop when he sees Cass wave back at him.

Dick practically hops off the bike, and his feet have barely touched the sidewalk when he's gathering Cass up in a brief hug, holding her tightly. She squeezes him back just as tightly.

"It's good to see you, Cass," he whispers into her hair.

"You too." She takes a step back once he lets go, adjusting the bag's strap on her shoulder. "I didn't think you'd come see me first."

"First?" He raises an eyebrow, taking a good look at his sister. 

Cass looks surprised, sure, wide-eyed and smiling, but it's not exactly... shocked. It's more the kind of surprise she'd show whenever Damian would get to all the waffles in the morning before she was even in the kitchen, not exactly 'my brother's home for the first time in four years' surprised.

"You're not surprised to see me," he settles for saying, not quite a question.

"I'm getting a wedding invitation, too," she says, a smile, just a touch smug, tugging at her lips. "And... I saw you in Blüdhaven last month."

"And that was enough for you to know I'd be here today?" He lets out a short laugh. She's always been good at reading people, but he doubts even her powers of observation are that good. "Did Tim tell you?"

"No." She shakes her head, still just the slightest bit smug. "Are you giving me a ride to work?" she asks suddenly, turning to face his bike.

Dick shrugs. "Yeah, that was the plan. That okay with you?"

She nods, then without giving him the chance to say anything else, turns to root through his saddlebag for his spare helmet. "Yeah. I'd like that. It's... good to have you here. And you can tell me about... Um, about what you're going to do..." She trails off, turning the helmet around in her hands. "And I want to ask you something."

He grins. "Yeah, I'd really like that, too. And _I've_ got some things I wanna ask you about, too, anyway. If you're up to it." Such as a certain old friend of hers he's meeting soon.

But he'll wait till they're actually there before mentioning that.

"Ask me at the studio. While I set up." She flashes him another small, brief smile, before it disappears under his spare helmet. "Let's go."

"Just tell me where to go."

He pulls his own helmet back on and it's only one, two steps backward until he can drop back down onto the bike. Once Cass has settled in herself, once her arms are securely wrapped around him, he revs the bike and, with the sound of his sister's soft laughter behind him, speeds off.

The road to where Cass works is a little more familiar than the one to her apartment building, though she wasn't even working there yet when Dick left Gotham. But he still vaguely remembers it, remembers being there the day the place was inaugurated, and with a few shouted directions from Cass behind him, all too soon he's parking at the curb in front of a building just a few blocks away.

"We're here," Cass says softly, then hops down onto the ground.

Helmet off again, Dick leans against the bike for his part, looking up at the brick building. Nondescript, save for a brightly colored Wayne Foundation sign, on a sidewalk that might have been clean a decade ago.

Very Gothamite.

And more or less exactly the same as all those other Wayne Foundation buildings that began cropping up around the city close to a year before he left it. He had the dubious pleasure of attending every single one of the inaugurations that year.

"Still looks the same," he says, aware it's more than a little inane. He's honestly not sure what he was expecting, for every place he ever visited to have become unrecognizable over the last four years? For the whole city to change?

Not likely.

"It's... not going to change. Not for an after-school program," Cass answers, hiking her dance bag up her shoulder again. "Come on." She jerks her head toward the door and, after looking over his bike one last time, Dick pushes off it and follows her inside.

"Guess so. Not even for a Wayne Foundation program."

Cass doesn't answer, only leads him further inside, away from another door that leads back outside and past an unmanned front desk, down one of two short halls lined by rows of doors. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks up, from the brightly decorated doors themselves to the handwritten signs on each one they pass. They pass by doors labeled with names like _Miss Bordeaux_ and _Mr Bard_ , each one in a childish scrawl, until they reach...

 _Miss Wayne_.

"Cute." He grins down at her where she's unlocking the door.

"The kids made them all," she says, a touch of pride in her voice. "It was cute."

She pushes the door open, and Dick has to stop for a moment, just take in the room.

It's a little weird to think sometimes. This is Cassandra's job now, teaching ballet to grade school kids in the afternoon. She might not be a professional dancer, exactly, not like they joked about together when they were younger. But he thinks this might actually suit her just as well.

He walks in behind her where she's shrugging off her jacket and bag, claps a hand on her shoulder. "I ever tell you I'm proud of you, Cass?"

"Maybe." She doesn't quite look at him, but he catches her smile on the mirrored wall on the other side of the room.

Cass turns around to face him in the center of the room, her eyes narrowed slightly and says, "What I wanted to ask you... I need a date for the wedding."

"Uh." He stares for a moment, eyes wide. Thrown by the sudden change in subject, has to stop and think before it comes back to him. This is what she wanted to ask him about? "And you're asking me for advice? Because I--"

"You... haven't dated anyone in years." She shrugs. "Because you're a workaholic. I know."

He winces, bringing a hand up to his chest in mock pain. It's not the first time she's said this to him, but far be it from him to disrupt their routine. " _Ouch_. And you still want to ask me?"

Cass stares at him. "Yes. It was you or Tim."

And. Okay. Fair. He loves Tim, but he wouldn't want to ask him for dating advice either.

"Okay, okay." He crosses his arms. "You can't find someone? I could probably ask Kori if her brother has a date yet. He's--"

"No," Cass interrupts him, shaking her head. "I... I know who I want to be my date. I was just wondering..."

She trails off, looking away. Dick frowns, eyeing her carefully. They understand each other well enough and he'd like to think he knows just how to get her talking by now. So he bites his tongue, waiting for her to be the one to speak first. 

"Steph," she blurts out. "It's Steph. But she's my best friend and..." Her face twists in a grimace. "I don't know how to do this."

 _Ohhh_. He gets it.

In hindsight, he should have seen this coming.

"How to ask someone out or how to ask _her_ out?" Dick can't quite help the grin that crosses his face.

"Both," Cass says, almost reluctantly.

"Just ask her. You guys hang out a lot, right? Whenever you next see her, just say something like... 'Hey, Steph.'" He spreads his arms wide, smiling brightly. Really gotta sell it. "'Wanna be my date for Donna and Kori's wedding?' Maybe get her flowers or something. I'd be surprised if she said no to _you_. That girl loves you!"

"The flowers are probably too much... But..." A rare splash of color high on her cheeks, Cass looks down at her feet, then back up at him. "Okay. Thank you." She bites her lip and changes the subject. "So, um. Tell me about what you're doing today. You're... Going to plan Donna's wedding, right? Everything? In three months?"

"Yeah." Dick huffs out a laugh. "Yeah, I _offered_ to do it, can you believe that?"

"From you?" And Cass' face softens, fond. "Yes, I can."

He looks away, not really willing to examine what she means by that too much. Not just now. "That's sort of what I wanted to ask you about, Cass. Donna told me about the wedding party and I remember most of them but..." He shrugs, smiling sheepishly.

"Yes," Cass says, saving him from fumbling for words some more. "I know who's in the wedding party, too. Lian's the flower girl," she adds, oh so helpfully. She looks at him, considering. "You want to ask me about Jason."

"Yeah. I haven't seen the guy since high school and the last time I remember even being near him..." He waves a hand in a vague motion even he doesn't understand. He thought about what to ask Cass, what he probably needs to know about Jason, on the drive over, but he can't remember a thing now. "Is he... He hasn't been holding a grudge for seven years, has he?" he asks. And immediately wishes he could kick himself.

Cass frowns up at him. And there's something he's missing in her expression, a shift he doesn't quite catch. "I don't know. Probably not."

"Yeah? Because I thought--"

"No... Wait." Before Dick can even blink, she's in his space, pushing him toward the doorway. "I can't tell you anything else about Jason right now. You've... gotta go meet him."

Dick stops dead and, finding no resistance, Cass stops pushing him.

He looks down at her, well aware he's gaping. "Wait, wait, wait. How do you know I'm meeting Jason _now_? For all you know, I could have been seeing him next week!"

Cass purses her lips, a faux thoughtful look settling over her features. "Dunno." Completely contradicting her blatant lie, she says, "Did you check the address Kori texted you? Because... This is it. He works here."

 _Oh_.

The truth is he didn't immediately recognize the address, had been planning on asking Cass about it. But he can admit he really only glanced at it once.

"And you knew this whole time." He doesn't even bother to make it a question. What is his life?

Right. Right. He should have known. They're still friends and Jason must have told her. Hell, if _Dick's_ asking her about the guy, it shouldn't surprise him if Jason's mentioned something to her, too.

She smiles--a sweet smile he doesn't believe for a second--tilting her head to look up at him. "Yeah. So go see him. Before he has to work." Something about her voice changes then, something lighter, teasing. "I'm sure he'll be happy to see you."

Before he can even begin to question that, Cass plants her hands straight on his chest and _pushes_ , until he either has to let himself be pushed out the door or let them both fall over.

"Wait!" he yells, as soon as she lets her hands fall from his chest and she looks like she's about to close the door in his face. "What does he even do here? I'm early, won't he be busy?"

"He works with the kids who need homework help. In the other hall. So... No. He's not busy yet. He won't mind if you go now." She nods at her door. "Look for his name."

Then, before he can say anything else, she waves at him and does close the door. Right in his face.

Dick huffs, stares up at the brightly colored name on the door... Then lets himself slump against it, pressing his face against the polished wood.

Fine.

Time to meet Jason Todd.

_Again._

-

Finding the door labeled _Mr Todd_ doesn't take long. It's half open, letting him catch a glimpse of a bright, airy room, with not much beyond two square tables and a desk, before he has to step back, lest he get spotted before he's ready.

Between Donna and Cassandra's hints about seeing Jason again, he's more than a little reluctant to let _Jason_ see _him_ first. Who knows what they all remember that he doesn't? Best to go in there with as much recon as he can. And if he could just at least get a look at him, at something about him that might jog his memory...

Dick shifts on his feet, venturing another glance inside. He manages to see dark hair and a white shirt this time, but nothing else of the man himself. He leans forward on the tips of his toes, carefully placing a hand on the door frame for balance, and peeks around where the door's open. A strong jawline and a hand running through that dark head of hair come into view then, as Jason stands hunched over papers on the desk. He has a brief flash of memory, of that shouting, curly-haired kid turning even redder than he had while shouting--so red he vaguely remembers being a little impressed--before turning on his heel and all but running away from him. He remembers Babs pulling him away right after, Roy coming up out of nowhere behind her, a question in his eyes, and--

Jason moves the chair around the desk and the _screech_ of it against the tiled floor has Dick rocking back on his heels away from the door, his heart in his throat. He frowns. Then rolls his eyes at himself. Jesus, being back in Gotham really is messing with his head.

Enough. This is probably enough recon for now.

He raps his fist against the open door and steps into the room without waiting for an answer.

"Hey," he says, before he's even looked up at the man in front of the desk. He makes sure to smile his sunniest smile, cranking up the charm as much as he can. "Jason, right? Hi, it's--"

"Dick Grayson."

Dick starts, actually focusing on the man in front of him now. That voice is... actually almost familiar. It's deeper than his mind seems to expect it to be, rougher, but the strong Gotham accent, even the way he says his name: _that's_ just the slightest bit familiar.

And that face, staring at him with poorly concealed amusement. Yeah. Yeah, that white tuft of hair is new, but that's definitely an older version of the face he remembers. An older, calmer, _handsome_ version. Those eyes, especially, piercing as they look him up and down.

Then Jason straightens up and Dick has to look _up_ at him. Not much, just a little, but he's. He's _taller_ than him. The last time he remembers seeing the guy he barely came up to Dick's shoulders and now he's tall and broad and.

Yeah. No. So not the time to be noticing all of that about a guy he barely even remembers.

A guy who's definitely not checking him out. No.

"Uh. Yeah, that's me." Nice save. Not. He shrugs, letting his smile turn lopsided. "Donna did say you'd remember me."

Jason spreads his arms, an edge to his smile. "How could I ever forget the golden boy of Gotham Academy?"

Dick grimaces, raising a hand to rub at the back of his neck. That's a nickname he hasn't heard in a while. _One_ of the nicknames. "Did anyone ever really call me that or was that just the headmaster kissing up to my... my family?"

Jason's smile widens into a grin and he moves to perch on the edge of the desk, hands on the wood on either side of him. "That _was_ the headmaster brownnosing, yeah. I guess he never got the memo that you hated it."

Dick spends a good two more seconds feeling awkward at the doorway, before he walks to the desk, stopping a few steps in front of Jason. "But you did?" he asks, once he's stopped. And up close, when he's not looking at him from the other side of a room, his eyes look even brighter, sharper, over a dusting of freckles across his nose.

 _Not the time, Grayson_.

Jason scoffs. "Everyone did. The way you looked every time he called you that was _pre_ tty damn obvious."

"And I thought I was so subtle," Dick says, a little wry. He stretches out a hand. "It's nice to meet you again, Jason."

"You too." He nods, taking Dick's hand in his own to shake. "Didn't really think I'd ever run into you again, you know." Jason shoots him a look he can't quite decipher--a strange little smile--and says, "But here you are _now_."

"Yeah, to work with you." Dick lets himself grin up at Jason, meets his eyes, and.

 _God_. How did Jason Todd grow up so handsome--no, fucking _gorgeous_? When exactly did this happen?

He completely misses what Jason says next, just barely aware of his voice washing over him. But then Jason looks down at their hands, still intertwined, and something clicks for Dick.

He pulls his hand away, casual as he can, stuffs both his hands in his jacket pockets, and with what he hopes is a confident-sounding laugh, says, "So." He casts around for something harmless to say. "Three months, right? That's how much time we've got?"

Jason crosses his arms, his smile turning crooked.

And this is definitely, definitely not the time to be noticing those biceps, the way they flex under his crisp, white shirt when he moves. Because, apparently, scrawny little Jason Todd from the high school drama club works out now.

And that's some kind of revelation if he's ever seen one.

He manages to tune back in just in time to hear Jason say, "Just about, since we wanna make sure they actually get a good wedding." And the way his face softens at that, the way he looks at Dick just then, is... Nice. It changes his whole demeanor, those eyes turning warm, and just how _did_ short, angry Jason Todd grow up to be _this_ man?

Dick startles when Jason raises an eyebrow at him and he darts his eyes away, settling on the wall just behind and to the left of Jason's desk.

Yeah. All right. He totally did just get caught staring. Isn't he usually smoother than this?

_Two strikes, Grayson._

"So, uh." He laughs again--sounding a little more forced than he'd like, but it'll do. He lasts only a moment longer, before he just can't hold himself still anymore, can't stay this close without doing something else embarrassing. He spreads his arms and steps backward until his lower back's pressed against one of the tables. "You ready to start planning the perfect Anders-Troy wedding?"

He looks up at Jason through his lashes and, when he meets his eyes again, Jason answers him with a sharp grin, all teeth. "Sure. Show me what you got, Wonder Boy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops, where did more pairings come from
> 
> So I've been/will be referring mostly to the Arkham games for whenever I need someplace specific in Gotham. Because, hey, what do you know, it's easier to picture a city when you've spent hours virtually running around all over it, haha. Aaaand Coventry's in South Gotham and is the site of such exciting events as someone faking Black Mask's death and... Yeah.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! ♥ There'll be much more Jason in the next one, promise.


	3. you fill my head with you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update's a little later, and a little less edited, than I'd hoped. Sorry about that, guys!
> 
> Wherein Dick keeps meeting people at diners for some reason. Sheesh, first he's getting hugs everywhere, now this??

It's yet another week before he sees Jason again. Between Jason's unpredictable job schedule--turns out he's a substitute teacher when he's not working for the Wayne Foundation, and doesn't _that_ just sound fun?--and long shifts at the understaffed Blüdhaven PD, it's all they can do to exchange a text message or two when Dick's stumbling back home and Jason's waking up for the day. The sleep deprivation might make it easier to actually _send_ Jason a message in the first place, but a few incoherent early morning texts aren't really letting him make any actual plans beyond what they already talked about. And the names of a few bakeries and bridal shops do not a wedding make.

So when his phone buzzes early Friday morning, loud enough to jar him where he'd been dozing off in bed, he's scrambling up to reach it before his brain's even fully back online. He doesn't even need to read the name to know it's a text from Jason. He doesn't exactly get a lot of messages at 6am. And Donna would call.

_you have saturdays off right? meet for breakfast and wedding planning tomorrow?_

By the time the words get through the fog surrounding his brain, Dick's a little embarrassed, but not really surprised, to find himself smiling.

_talking about wedding cakes over pancakes?? sign me up. text me where?_

_sure thing goldie_

Dick snorts. Less than two hours in his company and a handful of text messages and already Jason seems determined to drag up every embarrassing nickname he ever got called in high school. And even make up some of his own.

Fun.

But actually nowhere near as annoying as he would've expected.

With a meeting finally arranged though, Dick lets himself breathe a sigh of relief and shove just one thing off his shoulders. Then pulls his pillow over his head, that same stubborn ray of sunlight still shining into his room, and rolls right back to sleep.

Driving into Gotham the next day is easier than a week ago. It doesn't have him looking over his shoulder from the very second he crosses the city limits, just waiting for his life to turn into some horror movie. Or worse, into something from one of his weirder dreams. He's only half-expecting to run into someone he'd rather not see this time and he even lets himself text his siblings when he arrives, offering to meet them when he's done with his business. Cass had suggested it. The day before.

All in all, it's. Almost normal.

So maybe he's feeling a little lighter than usual when he walks into the meeting place, a little more cheerful than the average day. And maybe just looking around lifts his spirits even more, even before he spots Jason.

Pauli's Diner still looks the same as it did when he used to spend his Friday evenings in high school there with Babs and Donna, with Roy and Wally, sometimes their whole friend group. Even the booth they'd usually sit at looks the same, although like it's been reupholstered a couple times.

That's not where he finds Jason though. Their old usual booth's got a handful of teenagers in it, the sight inspiring a wave of nostalgia he has to shake off.

Instead he finds Jason, after circling around a group of old women in the center of the place, in a corner booth at the back, his back to the wall. Jason spots him at the same time he does, his eyes meeting Dick's. And maybe there's a reason his life _didn't_ turn into a horror movie when he first set foot back in Gotham. Because the moment their eyes meet, when Jason looks up at him from the coffee in his hands, hair messier than a week ago and wearing a stupid leather jacket, Dick could swear his feet bolt themselves to the floor.

 _Jesus_ , no. No.

Going back to Gotham didn't land him in a horror movie. It's got him smack dab in the middle of some cheesy romance flick, after all.

And this. This is bad.

He barely even notices anything else around him, until one of the old women bumps against him, jarring him from his thoughts. Dick has just enough time to catch the slow, amused smirk curling Jason's lips, before he's turning around to face the startled woman and plastering on a bright smile, apologies falling from his lips.

She's understanding--especially once she gets a good look at him and he can't help but wince at that--and he escapes the encounter with just a few compliments directed at the now very charmed old woman and her very charmed friends. And some advice about eating well he only manages to catch part of.

When he manages to drops down onto the bench across from Jason, Jason looks like he's holding back laughter. He looks Dick up and down, raises an eyebrow, and says, "Got coffee," while gesturing at the pot with his own cup. And he says absolutely nothing about the scene he just witnessed. He doesn't need to.

Dick rolls his eyes and pours himself a cup of his own. "Thanks." He takes a sip, looks at Jason over the rim of his cup, where he still looks entirely too amused, and sighs. "You can say it, you know."

Jason grins at him, all teeth. "Say what? I'm just glad you're here already," he says, tone so falsely earnest it hurts. "And that you're _so_ glad to see me."

Dick freezes. Shit. He noticed. Of course he noticed. No one could possibly be stupid enough not to notice.

"Anyway," Jason's voice, seemingly unconcerned with Dick getting caught staring _yet again_ , breaks through his thoughts. He takes another sip of his coffee, then sets it down, the grin melting into a smaller, more sincere smile. "What do you say, Goldie? Cake, location, dresses? Flowers? Where do we start? Cause I don't know about you, but I haven't exactly planned a wedding before. And I don't think watching Say Yes to the Dress is gonna help me out here."

Dick taps his fingers against the table, leaning forward. " _I_ haven't either. I'm just doing this for Donna and Kori." He shrugs. "We'll figure it out, right, Jason?"

Jason sighs, the gesture exaggerated enough, as if he were completely deflating, to have Dick fighting back a smile. "And here I was hoping you had some wedding experience in that head of yours. A guy like you... Haven't you been married yet? Engaged once or twice or somethin'?"

Dick snorts where he was just about to take another sip of his coffee and has to pull his cup away before he spills it everywhere. " _No_! No! I've never been engaged! I haven't even..." He shakes his head quickly. No. No. So not the time to admit he hasn't even been on a date in years.

Jason lets out a laugh, a light, _bright_ sound (and he is so, so _fucked_ ). "Easy, easy. I'm just messin' with you. But it still means we've got no starting point."

"Sure it does. You're the Say Yes to the Dress expert here. I'll just follow your lead. We'll get them their dresses and..." He waves a hand. "We're done, right?"

"One problem, Dick." Jason leans back in his seat, throwing an arm on the backrest. "We'd still need Donna and Kori for that."

"Then I guess we better talk about cake, after all!" he says brightly. "We can do that much, right?"

And Jason, resourceful, prepared man that he's turning out to be, reaches into the messenger bag sitting next to him and pulls out a folder, dropping it on the table between them. Dick smiles, a little bemused, when he sees how stuffed full of paper it is. Okay, he's definitely been working on this more than Dick has been able to.

"Nice work, Jason."

He gets raised eyebrows and another grin in response. "I like to be prepared."

Turns out? The folder's not only organized alphabetically, but color-coded, with names, numbers, ads, and business cards for just about every shop, bakery, and venue this side of the Lady of Gotham. And a _checklist_ : a color-coded, meticulously organized, double-sided checklist, starting with _Book a venue_ and ending, on the other side of the sheet, with _Avoid meltdowns during wedding_.

Dick feels a little like a slob just looking at it.

He looks from the list to Jason, eyes wide. "Jesus, Jason. When did you _do_ all this? Where did you find the time?"

"One of my roommates wanted company at the DMV?"

"Right..." Dick says faintly. "And here I was spending all my time at work..."

Jason snorts. "Hey, I just gave us a head start. Come on." He pushes what seems like half the contents of the folder toward Dick. "We've got less than three months to do this and we can't do shit if we don't find _somewhere_ for them to get married."

Before Dick can even blink, Jason's divvied up everything between them and, in between ordering Dick's promised stack of pancakes and Jason's own breakfast, he finds himself poring over Jason's annotated ads, Jason's running commentary washing over him.

He's honestly more than a little impressed.

And more than a little charmed.

"You're ridiculous," he finds himself saying at one point, not even sure anymore just what Jason had been saying about some place in Miagani Island.

"What?" Jason says, his lips twitching in amusement, though his voice is steady. "Don't like my stuff, Dickie?"

"There's nothing wrong with your--" Dick pauses, narrowing his eyes. No. "Dickie?"

Jason has the grace to look abashed, if only a tiny bit, at that, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. "Don't like _that_?"

"Nah. I like it," he answers, widening his eyes in his best innocent look. "It's all. I don't know, vintage. Really sounds like something a middle-aged aunt would call me. Even better than Boy Wonder and Golden Boy, _Jay_."

Jason snickers and he rests his chin on his hand. " _Dick_ is real vintage-like. It's what? Straight from the last century?"

Dick makes a show of thinking it over, tapping a finger against his chin. "A few decades ago." He rolls his eyes. "Which I guess _is_ straight from the last century, Jay."

"See? I'm actually modernizing it a little. 'Sides, if it's what an aunt would call you... _You_ don't have an aunt and _we_ were almost family. So I get... What is it? Special Dick privileges."

 _Special Dick privileges_.

"Jesus _Christ_ , Jason." Dick's suddenly grateful he hasn't refilled his coffee in the last few minutes, when he has to lift the hand at his chin to cover his face, muffling his surprised laughter. "Okay," he manages to wheeze out through the laughter. "Congratulations, I've never heard that one before. And I've heard a lot of them."

Jason manages a good poker face for a few solid seconds, before he's bowing his head over the table, shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

He's sure that's the couple in the booth across from theirs that he sees glaring at them from the corner of his eye, but Dick can't bring himself to care. Especially when one particular thing Jason said sinks in.

"Hold on. Hold on." He holds up a hand, the last of his mirth fading away for the moment. "What do you mean we were almost family?"

Jason looks up again, frowning. "You don't remember?"

"I'm finding there's a lot of things I don't remember," he says, keeping his tone light. Or maybe never knew in the first place.

While Jason straightens up, turning an appraising look on him, Dick pours himself more coffee, just to have something to do with his hands. A joke. Sure. It's completely normal to forget some things about his teenage years, but it's damn inconvenient right now, too.

"Renee Montoya," Jason says, an affectionate note creeping into his voice. There's a strange, almost soft look to his eyes at that. "She adopted me when I was a teenager. And she used to date Kate. Kane," he clarifies. "Even talked about getting married once. And they're still close."

"Seriously?" Dick asks, disbelieving.

Renee he definitely remembers. Not just because she worked, and still works, closely with Babs' dad either. She dated Kate when he was in high school and he's sure they didn't break up until sometime after he graduated. And Kate may not _his_ immediate family, but she's family enough, close enough, for him to remember these things, after all. Especially when her wedding to Maggie was only a little before he left Gotham.

He has to suppress a grimace at the thought. It was a great wedding. Beautiful, really. But he can't quite shake the sinking feeling in his stomach when he remembers the argument after, back in the manor. It'd sparked during the wedding, gone on even after they left and it'd been just one too many. One too many times they butted heads, one too many times it got nasty and personal and.

And he can't do this.

He frowns, looks down as he turns his cup around in his hands. He doesn't look up when he realizes Jason must be staring at him, just pretends to be deep in thought. "Yeah, I know Renee," he finally settles for saying. "And I knew she had a kid, but..." He looks up again, flashes Jason a lopsided smile. "I hadn't realized that was _you_ I was almost related to." He shakes his head. "I don't know how we'd have worked out as... step-second cousins?"

Jason gives him an odd look, but doesn't press him on his lapse in attention. Instead, after a moment, he huffs out a laugh. "Yeah, I don't know how that'd have worked out, Goldie. We didn't exactly... get along then." And it's the first time either of them acknowledges the... incident from back then, but he goes on as if he hadn't, doesn't linger on it. And he isn't sure whether he's grateful for that or not. "It's probably better this way."

"Then again," Dick says, because focusing on this is better than thinking about the day of Kate's wedding. Which Jason probably attended, he realizes. "Maybe if they had gotten married, we'd have gotten along and we'd have--"

"Nope." Jason outright laughs now. "Nope, whatever you have to say I don't wanna hear it."

Dick heaves a theatrical sigh, rolling his eyes in as grand a gesture as he can. No, this game he can play. "But don't you wanna hear about how we'd have been such close step-second cousins? We could have had sleep overs! Really gotten to know each other and--"

"Ew. Nope!" Jason interrupts him again, laughing louder. "Nope. Special Dick privileges means I don't have to hear this either."

And Dick can't help it. Just hearing him say that again... He dissolves into laughter right along with him.

-

"So," Dick says, while they're venturing out into the chilly winter air again. He's had a thought in the back of his mind ever since Jason brought up Kate getting married, a question he wanted to ask. "Kate and Maggie's wedding. You were there, right?"

Jason looks over his shoulder at him, just a few steps ahead of Pauli's front door. "Yeah, why?" There's a half-smile on his lips. "Thinking you saw me there?"

"Uh, not exactly? I don't really..." He shakes his head, tries to keep his voice light, casual. That's not really a question he wanted to have to answer. "I don't really remember seeing you there. But I think I kinda' should have." He shifts on his feet. "I guess we missed each other there."

"Nah," Jason says dismissively. "I remember seeing you there."

"Really? And you didn't come by to say hi?" Dick asks, trying for teasing.

Jason's smile turns a little odd again, a little hesitant. "No. You didn't exactly look like you were having a good time. You or your old man."

Oh.

"You noticed," Dick mumbles. He smiles tightly. "Sorry about that. It was no big deal, just, uh."

"Hey, it's fine. Whatever happened..." Dick can't quite figure out the expression on Jason's face, but it's gone just as quickly as it appears. "Whatever. Not my business. You're..."

Dick's phone buzzes in his pocket. Loudly. Loud enough for Jason to notice, judging by the way he trails off.

Jesus. Maybe he should consider just keeping it on silent all the time.

"Sorry. Sorry! It's my brother," Dick says, sheepish, once he's fished the phone out of his jacket pocket, seen it's a text message from Tim with an address. Where he's meeting them. Right.

"Yeah?" Before Dick can answer, Jason goes on, "Meeting all the kids today? Think Cass said something about that yesterday."

"Yeah." Dick bites back a smile, a real one. Just how much does Cassandra tell Jason? "I guess she did."

"Don't let me keep you then." Jason makes a shooing motion, grinning now. "Go on. Just remember what you've gotta do!"

"Yeah, yeah."

So, in the end, Dick leaves the diner with a whole new to-do list on his phone and a wink from Jason when he says goodbye. A wink that he's not proud to say makes his heart leap in his chest.

Fuck, he's in trouble.

He's almost proud of letting himself linger in the city after that. He shoots a group text to his siblings saying he's on his way, and it turns out to be some bookshop--finally, someplace that opened during the last four years--where he finds three of them curled up in an out of the way couch near the back. And Damian staring critically at what he thinks might be zoology books in the shelves surrounding the couch, a thick, heavy-looking book already under his arm.

He creeps up behind Damian before any of the others can spot him, hands behind his back, and--

"Hey, little D!" He grins and ruffles Damian's hair, throwing his arms around the kid--and doesn't miss Tim hiding a laugh in a cough or Duke and Cass outright smiling at the scene, albeit with different levels of enthusiasm.

"Grayson!" Damian yelps and bats at his hands when Dick only laughs. "This is." He disentangles himself from Dick, with something he'd absolutely never say is anything at all like a pout crossing his face. "This is not any way to greet people! What are you doing?!"

Dick takes a step back, lets him have space to soothe his ruffled feathers. "Sure it is. When it's my little brother who I'm _so_ glad to see."

Damian clicks his tongue at him, but there's no heat behind the glare accompanying it. "It's good to see you, too, Richard."

"Hi, Dick," Tim, giving up on his efforts to hide his amusement, chimes in then.

Beside him, Cass waves and Duke asks, "Everything go okay?"

"Everything went great!" he answers, turning to face the trio on the couch, and is only a little surprised to find he means it. He. Actually did have a very nice morning. "Perfect. But that's not what I'm here for. I want to hear you about you guys right now." And he means it, really. He might see his siblings fairly often, but even just a city away it's not as often as he'd like.

Without looking behind him, he ducks backward and throws an arm around Damian's shoulders, gently dragging him over to the other three. "Come on. It's been ages since the five of us were together, I wanna hear about what you've all been up to."

And it doesn't take much more prompting than that to get them all talking.

Duke, immediately pulling out his newly-acquired-just-passed-the-test-two-days-ago-Dick license, wastes no time in telling him how _he_ was the one who'd driven Tim and Damian here. Even if it was in Tim's car. It still counts, right?

Damian scoffs at first, but with a little prompting from Cass ("Dick... Damian told me that..."), he shrugs and, almost embarrassed, tells Dick about a new friend he made in school, and about time spent with Colin and Nell. And about his newest stray cat.

Dick has to hide a smile at that.

When Damian falls silent, arms crossed, Cass her raises her eyebrows at Dick over Damian's shoulder, giving him a significant look. She doesn't say anything about herself, only stretches out on the couch until her feet prod Tim's legs.

But he gets the message. Yeah. He'll be getting a talk about the Wedding Date Situation soon. He just knows it.

At the not-so-subtle prompting from Cass, Tim mumbles something about his work at Wayne Enterprises and.

And that's when it hits him. Like it always does.

Tim very carefully does not mention just what-- _who_ \--Dick's been avoiding, even though he has to be involved in so much of what Tim does at work. None of them mention him at all and. Dick would be grateful about that, thinks he kind of is, if he didn't feel the shame of it curling around his gut. If it didn't involve the usual elephant in the room. Thoughts of their last argument, still so fresh in his mind, don't help.

"In any case," Damian says loudly, interrupting some light ribbing from Duke and Cass about Tim's job. (Ribbing he's sure is _too_ light, as far as Damian's concerned.) "We all know what kind of work Drake does, it's not special anymore." He waves a hand dismissively, ignoring Tim's affronted scoff. "What did you mean _everything went great_? You've just started, haven't you?"

Dick leans against the back of the sofa, so he can look at all four of them from above, his hands dangling just above their heads. "Yeah, we've still got a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it. I've gotta find somewhere they can get married, for starters, and that could take a while to--"

"No, it won't," Damian interrupts him, frowning.

Tim straightens up, turning wide eyes on Damian, even as Duke shakes his head and Cassandra purses her lips.

Dick notices, of course he does, but he can't even begin to guess what Damian's getting at. Or why the other three are reacting that way.

"Hey, he doesn't--" Duke starts, but Damian interrupts him as well.

"The manor grounds are large enough," he says, something to his tone that Dick can't quite identify when Damian looks up at him. "Father always liked Troy and we've already spoken about this with--"

"Alfred," Tim says abruptly. "I... We weren't going to mention it. For obvious reasons." He levels a glare at Damian. "But Alfred did say something about how Donna would probably like it. If... you wanted to do that."

"Guys," Dick says, well aware his voice comes out weaker than he'd like, that his attempt at a smile's nowhere near convincing. "I really don't think this is a good idea. It's just..."

None of the others quite meet his eyes. Except for Damian, who raises an eyebrow imperiously and goes on, "It'd be free. That would allow you to make the rest of it better, wouldn't it? And as you are short on time... Anders and Troy's wedding could only benefit."

Thing is. He's right. But it just. It can't be worth it, can it? "I don't know, Damian. He isn't exactly happy with me right now."

"It doesn't matter." There's something oddly insistent about the way Damian says it. "You should still..." He looks at Cass, of all people, who gives him a look Dick can't decipher. "You should think about it," Damian finishes, voice firm.

Dick pinches the bridge of his nose. Would it hurt? To at least mention it to Donna? Would it even change anything?

"I'll think about it," he concedes. "No promises. Maybe Kori'd like the wedding somewhere else instead. We still gotta pass everything by them."

It's like he flipped a switch. The moment he says it, his siblings all seem to relax as one. And Dick can't help the little pang of guilt in his chest. This whole thing... from the moment they started fighting over every little thing when Dick was still a teenager. It can't have been easy for the rest of them, not for his siblings and certainly not for Alfred, or even Leslie. And with Dick just packing up and leaving Gotham four years ago...

He blows out a breath, sagging slightly against the furniture as he watches his siblings stretch out along it again.

Yeah. He can at least think about it for their sake, right? It'd solve a lot of their problems and. It doesn't mean he has to do anything else if he doesn't want to.

Right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Pauli's Diner](http://arkhamcity.wikia.com/wiki/Pauli%27s_Diner):) So of course Jason was in the corner booth.
> 
> And hey, remember when I said an even littler bit from other universes? Yeah, here's a little something from Bombshells, with Renee (and Kate) taking Jason in.
> 
> I hope everyone's doing well. ♥


	4. wash my hands turn my back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who got swamped with work this week? This girl! So this update is, once again, later than I wanted it to be. But it's longer!
> 
> I'm a little scattered right now, but hopefully the editing doesn't reflect that.

He doesn't want to talk to him.

Four years ago, he stormed out of what had been his home since he was eight years old, away from _him_ , and never looked back. He told himself then that he'd had enough, it was just too much, they just couldn't live together anymore. There was just so much either of them could take. He told himself he loved his father, but he just couldn't stand to be around him anymore, could barely bear to be in the same room, at least not without starting an argument. Whether it was over something as small and insignificant as forgetting a meal or as big as Dick's disinterest in college didn't matter. They fought over it all.

So he told himself it was for the best, for the both of them and for the rest of the family as well. He said as much to anyone who asked about what had happened, especially during those first days. Back then he wanted nothing more than to call Bruce and apologize, wanted nothing more than to call Alfred and _beg_ him to talk to Bruce for him, to find some way to fix it, the same way he'd always somehow managed to fix everything when Dick was still a child.

Because he missed him. Missed him something fierce, in a completely different way than how he missed his family, missed the circus and life on the road (because that was _grief_ , he told himself, old grief that never went away entirely). It hurt so much those first days, weeks, months. Because it'd been so long since they'd last seen eye to eye, since they really got along. But he was still Bruce, his second father.

He was the man who had taken him in, given him another family, helped him through his grief and Dick _loved_ him for it, for all of it. Still does. And now.

He's still not sure what flipped the switch, what ruined it all. And he misses him, he still does miss the relationship they once had, but.

He doesn't want to talk to him. He doesn't want to think of what he'll say, of what _he_ has to say to have Dick apologizing and begging and just trying to make things right, whatever right even means anymore. Because it's what he always does, what he's always done. But that wouldn't fix their relationship. It'd just be Dick falling in line again and.

He doesn't want that.

But he promised his siblings to think about it, to look into it. And he's never been one to back down for long anyway. It's been almost a week and he hasn't brought it up to Donna, Kori, or Jason yet, but he has to admit it's not a bad idea. Growing up, Donna practically spent as much time in Wayne Manor as she did in her own home. She knows its halls and rooms and grounds almost as well as Dick does, just as well as he knows her own childhood home. Holding her wedding there would be great. Perfect.

But if he wants that to happen, he has to actually talk to someone. Actually make it happen. And even if Alfred is the one who suggested it, he'll still need to talk to... He'll need to talk to _Bruce_.

But the thing is? He knows what'll happen if he does. He knows exactly what it'll be.

Dick sighs heavily, scrubbing a hand across his face. He's leaning on his kitchen counter, phone in hand, open to Bruce's contact info. And all he can feel is tired. Weary, like he's got some huge weight bearing down on him.

He's just off another long shift at work and they're still understaffed, still _way_ too short on manpower, so much he's actually beginning to miss long nights of nothing but paperwork with Gannon and Amy. He's barely slept the last few days, is just about running out of clean clothes, and he's pretty sure whatever's left in his fridge is just a bad day away from turning sentient. Thinking too long about his father's just more energy than he has to give right now.

He's not sure how much longer he ends up staring at the screen of his phone, but eventually, he thumbs out of Bruce's info, pulls up Alfred's instead, and taps out a quick text message. He's not looking to use Alfred as a go-between here, but it's a step. It's just a first step, just feeling things out with someone he still talks to regularly.

Alfred's response, when he reads it later in the day after a few hours of sleep, is much more eloquent than his own two-line text. It's two carefully-written paragraphs that are perfectly polite and noncommittal about talking to Bruce. As expected. It doesn't make thinking about talking to him any easier, but the rest of the message does confirm what his siblings told him. They'd be more than glad to let them hold the wedding there, if Donna and Kori would like that. He just has to find out what they want. And the kicker: actually tell Bruce, so he and Jason can have the time they need to get the place ready.

Or. Well. Telling Alfred would be enough. He knows the old man wouldn't hold it against him. And he knows that, whatever their current relationship may be, Bruce wouldn't deny him just because he didn't go to him directly. But he also knows he couldn't realistically avoid Bruce the whole time, if he had to traipse in and out of the manor, along with however many people he recruited to help.

He has to talk to Bruce. Just.

Just not yet.

Later. Then he can bring it up to Donna and Kori. And Jason.

-

It's talking to Cass that finally manages to get his mind off Bruce.

His phone goes off before he leaves for work on Monday, while he's still adjusting his uniform. Seeing Cassandra's name on the screen, he sets the tie aside, letting it fall on his bed, and answers.

" _Dick_ ," she greets, before he has the chance to say anything.

"Cass?" He drops down onto the bed. "I thought you'd be calling me soon. How's the Wedding Date Situation?"

" _I..._ " He hears Cass take in a breath. " _It... It's gone... Um. I told her just what you said and..._ "

"And? Don't leave me hanging, Cass. What'd she say?"

" _We were at her house watching movies_ ," Cass says. " _Last night. And I was going to ask. But then the lights went out and..._ "

Dick isn't sure whether to groan or laugh. "What? You get distracted? 'Cause that'd have been a really romantic way to do it. Just you and Steph and the stars..."

" _And her falling off the couch_ ," she finishes for him. " _And then we couldn't find the candles... And it was dark..._ "

Dick puts a hand over the phone to muffle the sound of his snickers. He's sure she hears him anyway.

" _It was kind of silly_ ," Cass concedes.

"Then what?" He lets himself fall backwards on his bed, eyes on the ceiling. Might as well get comfortable for this story.

" _Then we went outside. And... you're right. It was us and the stars._ "

"And you asked her?"

" _I. I was thinking about it. I wanted her to know I have... feelings for her. And that this is important to me._ "

He doesn't say anything, just waits for whatever she's gearing up for.

" _...And then she asked me out._ "

Dick snorts. " _Cass_. Seriously?"

Cass' soft laughter comes over the line. " _Yeah... She beat me to it, I didn't even get to ask her first. But... She's going to be my date for the wedding._ "

He scrubs a hand down his face, laughing along with her. "Congratulations, Cass. Sorry my advice wasn't any good."

" _I dunno... I think it was still good advice. You're good at this sometimes._ " And he can hear the smile in her voice now. " _Even though you haven't been on a date in years._ "

His reaction is immediate, "Cass! It doesn't mean--"

" _Because you're a workaholic_ ," Cass continues, right over him.

"I'll get a date for the wedding!" he says before he can think better of it. "I can do that!"

" _But who are you going to ask?_ " Cass sounds skeptical and, _oh_ , that hurts a little.

Dick doesn't answer.

" _Did you meet someone new?_ "

No. Yes. No.

Not exactly.

Dick sighs. He is so not getting into that. "No." He rolls his eyes and answers mostly honestly, "I'm a workaholic who can't get a date. And I can't check if the maid of honor is single, because this isn't some cheesy romance flick."

And even if there were a maid of honor, he thinks he'd still be interested in a certain someone else.

" _Jason's single_ ," Cass says, casual as anything.

"Jason's not the maid of hono--" Dick stops abruptly, so abruptly Cass has to prompt him to speak again.

" _Dick...?_ "

No. Knowing that is not helping, it's _not_ helping.

"...Jason's single?" Dick asks at length, against his better judgment. Did Jason say something to Cass?

Jesus, did he notice? No, of course he noticed. How could he not fucking notice Dick acting like a lovesick schoolkid around him?

" _Yes._ " Her tone turns a little teasing and that, more than anything, gets him to relax some. It's Cass. It's just Cass. She wouldn't say anything like this without good intentions. " _He's just like you. He hasn't been on a date in years either._ "

Dick blows out a breath. "Seriously? Someone like him? _How_?"

He blinks, running through the words again in his mind. He seriously considers hiding under his pillow.

"What do you mean someone like him?"

"He just doesn't seem like the type of guy who'd stay single. He's..." he fumbles for an answer and settles on finishing off the sentence with a huff.

" _Dick,_ " Cassandra says carefully and Dick has a moment to regret every single thing he's ever said in his life. " _Are you and Jason..._ "

"What? No! No. Of course there isn't anything between us. There's no reason--"

" _Are you sure?_ " she asks, because Cassandra (Cain) Wayne is nothing if not perceptive.

"Cass.." He sighs. Yeah, all right. "I don't know. We kind of have a history."

Though how much of a _history_ they actually have, he doesn't even know. No one seems inclined to enlighten him yet.

" _I don't think it matters anymore. It's been years. If. If you wanted to..._ "

"Cass," Dick interrupts her. He's not very sure whether she's speaking as his sister or as Jason's friend here, but entirely sure he doesn't want to follow this line of conversation. "He's my co-wedding planner, I can't just make it weird. Anyway, he's nice. That's all."

" _Sure._ " Cass doesn't sound convinced. " _But remember he's single. And you haven't been on a date in years. Because you're a workaholic._ "

Despite himself, he smiles. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"

" _You bet your sweet patootie._ "

Dick groans.

-

The next couple weeks pass quickly enough.

Suddenly, he and Jason are texting nearly every day they don't see each other, which is often with their work schedules. He tells himself it's out of necessity. How are they going to plan a wedding in just under three months if they don't keep in constant contact? But he can't keep telling himself that for too long. He does like Jason and it doesn't take him long to stop bothering to even try to deny it to himself. He's honest with himself, all right?

Being around Jason is... nice. He _likes_ being around him--even when _around him_ means just texting him. And he has to scoff at his younger self a little, for never having really tried to get to know the guy.

He'd be glad to count him as a friend. Or whatever they are right now. Acquaintances?

Really.

But he can't get what Cass said that afternoon out of his head, when she told him Jason's single. _Does_ he want something with Jason? Or is he just still awestruck at how Jason Todd grew up? It could just be a crush and that'll fade soon enough, becoming something for him to laugh at himself for later.

But the way his heart leaps every time Jason meets his eyes unexpectedly, the half-smile half-smirk Jason gives him every time he catches him staring, and the way he just _lights up_ sometimes, the way he just comes alive when Dick stumbles onto a topic he's interested in... He keeps coming back to those.

It's hard to forget the warm feeling in his chest when any of it happens, or when he sees the genuine smiles Jason graces him with sometimes, more often the longer a conversation goes on.

All right. Maybe sometimes he's not so honest with himself.

He did mean what he said to Cass though, about not wanting to make things awkward. And she's right. He is a workaholic who can't keep a relationship, he does tend to neglect everything else for work. The multiple times he's gotten dumped just for that should be evidence enough. So, how ridiculous the very idea should be aside--when he can barely even remember anything from when they were kids--he shouldn't try for anything more. It's just. Getting harder to remember that.

But he can control himself. It's just a crush. He hopes.

Dick tries to set it aside, lets himself enjoy his time with this man who, despite all appearances--despite even the cheesy bad boy leather jacket in the middle of spring--is kind, warm, and gentle. He really can't see the kid he used to see around school in the adult Jason, but he thinks that might be more his own fault. He never did try to get to know him, even though he was one of Cass' closest friends.

He regrets it now, a little.

Still, better late than never.

They turn out to make a pretty decent team and, before he knows it, they've got dress and suit fittings and cake tastings and a meeting with a caterer all scheduled and _Jesus_. He has newfound respect for everyone who's had a wedding ever.

He doesn't bring up the venue though. Not just yet. Jason declares it one of their top priorities and Dick tells himself he'll talk to him about it. Right after he talks to Bruce. Really.

"Yeah, okay," Dick's saying as he follows Jason out of a flower shop in Park Row. "That's great for all the decorations, but you heard the florist. The dresses before the bouquets."

Jason heaves out a sigh, but doesn't look back as he leads Dick out of the side street. "We probably shoulda' done this next month. _After_ the fittings."

Dick quickens his pace, until he's walking side-by-side with Jason. "Nah." He shrugs and bumps his shoulder against Jason's. "Florists are busy. And expensive. And _now_ we've got..." He grins brightly and holds up his phone. "A list for Kori and Donna to pick from!"

Jason's lips quirk. "Seasonal flowers," he says dryly.

Dick wiggles his phone in his hand, holding it closer to Jason's face. "And I wrote them all down for you and everything."

"Dick--"

Dick only smiles wider at him in response. He slows his steps and Jason slows down to match him. "So, thanks to me, we can--"

"--avoid having to waste five whole seconds googling it--"

" _Thanks to me_ ," Dick says louder, making a show of ignoring what Jason said and keeping his phone exactly where he's dangling it in front of him. "Thanks to me, we can have this squared away by next month and--"

"Give me that!" Jason snatches it from him, scowling. It takes all of a second before the scowl turns into a smirk though, as Jason unlocks the phone and pulls up the note Dick had just saved into it.

"Jesus, Jay!" Dick sidles up closer to him, behind him, and looks over his shoulder. Without stopping to think about it, he rests his elbows on Jason's shoulders. Jason doesn't complain and he doesn't try to take his phone back yet, not while Jason's only looking at the note he saved. "What the hell? I did _not_ tell you how to unlock my phone."

Jason winks at him over his shoulder. It takes a lot of self-control not to stop dead at it while half-draped over the guy. "I pay attention, Dickie."

Dick scoffs. "Remind me to change that."

"Nah," he says absentmindedly as he scrolls through the list. "What's next, Dickie?"

Dick can't help but smile a little at the nickname every time now, even as he rolls his eyes at it, every time. "Wedding shower, booking a band, and we gotta start thinking about bachelorette parties, if we're doing that," Dick lists off. "I'm just glad they're taking care of invitations right now."

Jason snorts. "Dickie, I have no fucking clue what to do for a bachelorette party."

"Neither do I," he says easily. "You think maybe they don't want them?"

Jason's silent for a moment, then locks Dick's phone again and sidesteps away from him at his back. With a cheeky grin, he hands Dick back his phone and jerks his head to the right, toward another side street. "My apartment's nearby. Wanna figure this all out today?"

Dick almost drops his phone.

Jason's apartment. Sure. Okay. It's just where the guy he's developing this ridiculous crush on lives. Why would that ever be a problem.

He looks up, honestly a little concerned over just _what_ his own face must be doing, and locks eyes with Jason. He's sure Jason must be able to tell exactly what he's thinking just from that, but. Jason doesn't laugh at him, doesn't immediately reveal that he knows how Dick's been feeling recently and this is all some sort of revenge for whatever happened between them seven years ago. It takes him a moment through the haze of low-level panic, but Dick notices the uncertain edge to Jason's smile, how he's holding himself just a little more stiffly than a moment ago.

Oh.

Dick swallows. "Yeah, all right." He gives him a smile of his own and nods, putting some extra energy into his voice. "Lead the way, Jay! We'll figure out bachelorette parties or..." Dick huffs out a laugh. "Or plan a wedding shower instead."

"Maybe." Jason relaxes again and, without another word, leads Dick in the direction to his apartment.

-

Dick shifts on his feet as Jason unlocks his front door, willing himself to just keep _breathing_.

It's nothing. Nothing. Jason's own apparent nerves convinced Dick he's being sincere, that he probably didn't notice Dick's own reaction to such a harmless question. And that's it. They're... somewhere between acquaintances and friends. He's just visiting an acquaintance-friend- ~~crush~~. An acquaintance-friend- ~~crush~~ that may or may not be flirting with him at times. No big deal.

The sound of Jason pushing open the door snaps Dick back to reality, just in time to realize he's been staring somewhere in the vicinity of Jason's left shoulder. And Jason's looking straight back at him now, that half-smile half-smirk on his face.

"Come on, Dickie, wake up. My apartment won't bite. My roommates ain't even home!"

When Jason motions for him to go first ("Age before beauty, Dickie."), Dick crosses the threshold in silence and turns right back around to face him. "I don't know. It's your apartment." He narrows his eyes, pressing his lips into a thin line. "Jury's still out on whether it's you, your roommates, or the apartment I should be worried about."

Jason scoffs, more playful than anything, and plants a hand on Dick's shoulder to push him into the apartment until he can close the door behind them. "Yeah, yeah, sure, Goldie. I don't think you'd complain though." Jason walks past him, into the apartment's living room, and abruptly stops, turning around again. "If I did. You don't want Artemis or Biz to bite you and they don't wanna bite you, trust me."

Dick starts and, when Jason drops down on an armchair, follows him to it. It might just be a coincidence... But they're turning out to have more friends in common than he thought. "Artemis? As in Diana's friend?"

"As in Diana's friend." Jason opens his messenger bag on his lap, once again pulling out his color-coded wedding planning folder, and drops it on the small coffee table between his chair and the loveseat.

"Yeah?" Dick asks, resting a hand on the arm of Jason's chair. He looks down at him, questioning. "How do you even know Artemis? And Diana?"

Jason lets out a single, loud burst of laughter. "I _don't_ know Diana. Totally wanna meet her. Totally don't know her. And Artemis..." He shrugs. "Kori told me Donna knew someone who needed a roommate? Then Biz came along." He drops his bag on the carpeted floor next to the chair and leans over the table, opening his folder.

"Your roommate's almost old enough to be your mother," Dick points out inanely.

"Yep," Jason says, popping the 'p.' He frowns. "Renee's actually around her age," he goes on, before turning his attention back to his folder.

Dick hesitates, but stays where he's standing, next to Jason, rather than crossing over to the loveseat. He gets his first real look at the apartment then. And it's neat. Extremely neat, practically spotless, obviously painstakingly organized. And, with a rueful smile at the folder Jason's now flipping through, he realizes that's perfectly in keeping with Jason.

"You gonna stay there?" Jason asks, raising an eyebrow.

It's easy, while in the middle of a conversation, to not feel nervous about being so close to Jason, about saying, "Hmm. Yeah, I think so. I can't see whatever you've got in there from all the way--" He jerks his head at the other seat, really nowhere near as far away as he's making it out to be. "--Over there."

Jason rolls his eyes in an exaggerated motion, but turns in the chair all the same, so he's leaning against the opposite side of it, his feet still on the floor. "Someone's being clingy," he says with a soft huff of laughter, more than a little teasing. "That side's all yours."

Dick, because he just can't help himself, shrugs and drops down onto the arm of the chair, facing Jason, and shoots him a bright smile. "Bachelorette parties," he says cheerfully. "Or a wedding shower?"

"Christ, a wedding shower."

-

And as another week, and another, and the next month all pass, he starts wondering whether he can even still call Jason an acquaintance-friend- ~~crush~~.

They don't just talk about the wedding anymore.

It's easy to talk to Jason, even with whatever happened hanging over their heads. Dick doesn't remember and Jason doesn't bring it up. It's so easy that the near daily text messages turn into text messages every day, all throughout the day. They turn into phone calls during breaks at work, into early mornings on the phone, before Dick falls asleep and just after Jason gets up. More than once, Dick wakes in the late morning--at noon, if he's lucky, but he's actually sleeping a little better like this--with his phone still clutched in his hand, between his head and the pillow, feeling like a stupid kid with a crush again.

But it's. Not bad. It keeps happening more and more every week. And he honest to god _likes_ it. Every time, he finds a new text message from Jason once he's awake again, laughing at him for falling asleep halfway through the conversation. _Again_. It's a strange kind of good morning, but one he finds himself looking forward to, every few days, every other day, every day.

And it becomes almost routine. He shoots Jason a reply while he has breakfast (read: stares between his mug of coffee and the stove until he throws his hands up and goes for the cereal), which Jason answers in between classes, and Dick answers back when he gets a minute at work. And it goes on until Jason goes to bed, while Dick's still at work. Until Dick's back from work in the late night, early morning hours and Jason's just getting up again. Until Dick's settled into bed, actually speaking to Jason now. Until he's falling asleep and doing it all over again.

It's embarrassing. And Donna definitely catches on, he catches that not so subtle comment when she calls a week after the visit to the flower shop, _thank you very much_. Roy's, too, when he calls a day after Donna, the smirk just about audible in his voice. ("And how's Jason doing anyway? I haven't seen him in a few days and I hear you two are just so close now...") And Jason definitely tells Cass _something_ , if he judges by how suddenly she's bringing him up, one way or another, every time she and Dick speak. He absolutely still hasn't forgotten that phone conversation either.

It's embarrassing and it'd be mortifying, if he hadn't suddenly morphed into a giddy teenager somehow, too awestruck to care for more than a few minutes at a time.

But. Whatever. As long as Jason doesn't catch on.

" _Come on, Dickie_ ," Jason's voice in his ear sounds like it's aiming for exasperated and missing the mark entirely. " _No. No way. Maybe that works for you, but the rest of us normal people can't live off energy bars and cereal. How the fuck do you not have scurvy already?_ "

Dick shifts in his bed. He's not even sure he remembers what they started talking about this time. Something about the bakery they need to visit for the wedding cake? He's not sure, it didn't last longer than a couple minutes anyway, before they went off on a tangent. A tangent about Dick's eating habits, somehow.

"You don't get scurvy that easily, Jason," he replies, grinning to himself. He can't find it in him to be upset by the criticism, not when Jason sounds mortally offended by the mere thought of not having three square meals a day. "And it's all I've got time for, all right? I work a lot!"

" _Yeah, you're a workaholic. Or so I've heard._ "

Dick presses his face against his pillow, making a mental note to do something about his blinds soon. Sunlight keeps getting in anyway. "Cass told you that." It comes out muffled, but Jason seems to understand him anyway.

" _Cass tells me a lot of things_ ," Jason agrees, cheeky. " _That might have been one of them._ "

If he were feeling a little more alert, he'd worry over whether Cass saw fit to mention how she usually finishes that sentence, but he doesn't have the energy to spare right now. He lets it go and, changing tactics, pulls the pillow over his head. "So I don't usually have time to cook or buy groceries or anything. It's fine. I'm not starving or anything."

" _You're living off energy bars and cereal_ ," Jason reminds him flatly. "And then you just go and have pancakes and coffee in diners. Which is, by the way, literally the only thing I've ever seen you eat."

"Aw, Jason. I only have pancakes and coffee with _you_ on my days off!"

"Jesus, Dickie." Dick swears he can hear him roll his eyes. Then there's silence for a moment, before it's broken by the clang of what sounds like a pan and utensils. Breakfast. Right. Jason makes breakfast every morning, unlike Dick. " _What the fuck are you doing anyway? You sound weird, muffled or something_ ," Jason says, sounding a little distracted now.

"I'm under my pillow," Dick admits and, in the silence that follows, where he's sure Jason is rolling his eyes at him again, adds, with a puff of laughter, "The sun's getting in my room. And I haven't slept!"

" _Jesus, Dickie_ ," Jason repeats. " _I'm not tryin' to tell you your schedule's unhealthy, but--_ "

"But it's unhealthy. I know, I know," he says around a yawn. "It probably won't be forever."

" _You sure you don't gotta sleep already?_ " Jason asks, serious. " _I can just hang up and--_ "

"No!" Dick blinks, then makes a conscious effort to reel it in a little. "No, it's fine. You don't have to hang up, you're leaving for work soon anyway."

" _If you say so_ ," Jason mutters. " _Just go to sleep soon. And get some real food sometime today, all right? Something that doesn’t come out of a box!_ " he adds with a scoff.

"Fiiine, Jay. I'll eat _a_ fruit. Maybe even two. Before I go to work, too."

" _You know what though? Just let me deal with the caterer for the wedding. Cause I don't wanna think of what you'd get 'em to do._ "

Dick snickers into the phone. "I have great taste, Jay. The guests would love whatever I told them to make."

" _Don't even think about it_ ," Jason all but growls. " _We're gonna have good food in that wedding, no thanks to you. If we can find somewhere for it all._ " The last part is said under his breath, more to himself than to Dick.

Right. There's still that.

Dick rolls over and, from the gap between the pillow and the mattress, glares at the strip of sunlight that's still stubbornly shining into his room. "What have you got today anyway? You've got a class today, right?"

It's a blatant attempt at changing the subject, he doesn't bother to hide it, but Jason doesn't call him out on it. Or question it.

" _Yep_ ," Jason says, drawing out the word. " _Middle school English, regular teacher's on maternity leave. So you know that's gonna be fun..._ "

Dick hums in answer and settles deeper into the blankets, letting the words wash over him.

It's not long until he can finally relax, and he falls asleep to the sound of Jason's voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [A flower shop in Park Row](https://65.media.tumblr.com/dcff0621a506cd60e758c1b76082d5a6/tumblr_ogxhwdizGB1vh52nyo1_1280.jpg), haha. Someone stop me before I tl;dr about every little decision in this fic.
> 
> In any case, thank you again for all your feedback! It's been wonderful to see. ♥


	5. we're choking on the words

The day of their appointment at the bridal shop finds Dick standing in front of a fitting room curtain, cooling his heels next to Lua Anders.

Kori and Donna have switched best men for the day--said they were "borrowing" each other's best man for the day--leaving Dick in this side of the shop with Kori and Lua, and Jason on the other side with Donna, Diana, and Hippolyta "Call me Lyta" Prince.

It's not a bad group, really. A nice one, even. He's known all of these women since he was a kid, has always been pretty fond of them all, and... Well, he's definitely _fond_ of Jason.

Just as kind and welcoming as her daughter, Lua's spent the entire time Kori's been in the fitting room chatting about the engagement and the wedding and thanking him over and _over_ for all the work he's put into planning everything.

"And you must come visit us sometime soon," she's saying, holding Dick's hands the same way she has been for a good few moments now. "We don't see you nearly often enough since we moved from Gotham. And, oh, now that Kori doesn't live here anymore either..." She shakes her head, something almost mournful stealing across her face. It's easy to forget sometimes, that Kori's utter refusal to _not_ wear her heart on her sleeve isn't unique to her. "Well. We're all very fond of you and your friends in our family. Believe me."

"I'm done!" Kori calls out then, before he can answer her mother. She pushes back the curtain and, on careful feet, steps out of the fitting room, beaming.

Lua tears her hands away from his and gasps at the sight of her daughter. He's sure he sees tears spring to her eyes as she raises a hand to cover her mouth and he briefly touches her shoulder--in comfort, solidarity, he doesn't know-- then turns to face Kori.

"You look amazing, Kori," he says softly, and he means it, wholeheartedly. He's lost count of how many dresses she's tried on by now, but this one... It's a beautiful dress, and it looks _perfect_ on her, making an already gorgeous woman look practically radiant.

"Thank you, Dick," Kori answers and, picking up the ends of her skirts, crosses the short distance between the three of them. "I think I'm sticking with this one. What do you think, Mom?" With a blinding smile, she twirls in place, ending with a short, mock curtsey.

"Oh, darling..." Kori's mother shakes her head and, before either of them can blink, she's gathering her daughter up in a tight hug. "This is the one. From the moment I saw you in it..." She steps back, holding a still smiling Kori at arm's length, and says, "You look beautiful. Let me just... Let me fetch the attendant again."

"Thanks, Mom." Kori watches her mother hurry out of their little alcove, then turns back to Dick. "I must look very nice," she says, a wry hint to her voice. "If she was that overwhelmed."

Dick shrugs. "She's your mother and you're getting married. And... You're going away for a whole year after that. She's been getting emotional at all of the dresses. This is just the first one she cries at. And besides, trust me, Kori," he adds with a smile of his own. "It's _gorgeous_. The other ones didn't even compare. Just wait till Donna sees you in it."

She tilts her head slightly at him, lips quirking in amusement now. "I'm looking forward to seeing Donna as well. I'm sure she'll look even lovelier." She falls silent, then reaches for his hands, to hold between her own. Yeah. Like mother, like daughter. "Thank you Dick," she whispers fervently, squeezing his hands.

"You already said that." He looks down at their intertwined hands, and up at her again.

"No." She shakes her head. "I thanked you for your compliment, which was very kind of you. Now, I want to thank you for everything you're doing, which has been even kinder of you. I know..." Kori frowns, seeming to think her next words over, then sighs through her nose. "I know this can't have been easy for you, Dick. Donna and I had only planned on being in Gotham for a few hours that day. But you've been coming here this often, doing all of this, just for me and Donna, and I'm sure she's told you already, but we're so grateful. You and Jason have done so much already and--"

"It's all right, Kori," he interrupts her and tugs on her arm until she lets him draw her into a hug, mindful of her dress. He swallows. All right, if there was ever a time to suck it up and tell someone how he's feeling... "If there's anyone I'd do this for, it's you and Donna. You know how much you two mean to me."

"A lot, hm?"

"A lot," he agrees. He blows out a breath, lets out a laugh. "A hell of a lot."

She presses a kiss to his cheek, then pulls away. "You mean a hell of a lot to me, too, Dick," Kori says, voice so falsely earnest, her bright, bright green eyes so wide, he can't help but roll his eyes.

"Kori..." It comes out a lot more affectionate than he meant and that's honestly fine by him.

Her smile settles into a smaller, sincerer, curve to her lips. "I do though. I love you very much, too," she says, because there it is. There it always is. She's never been one to downplay anything, always been the one to cut right to the heart of things. "And just wait until your own wedding. Donna and I will be there to help."

Dick shakes his head in disbelief. "I don't know about a wedding, Kori. My love life's pretty dead."

Kori gives him an indulgent look. "Maybe not a wedding," she agrees. "But you'll find someone. I'm sure of it." She pats his arm, and because she's Kori, says, "And maybe have a wedding."

He's still not sure how he ended up with friends like this, who only let him keep up the bullshit for so long at a time. (Who even realize there's any bullshit to keep up.) But he's never stopped being grateful for them.

Mrs Anders pokes her head back into the alcove then, followed by one of the shop attendants they've already spoken to. In the whirl of movement, cloth, and pins that follows then, when someone suggests the dress might need adjustments, Dick flashes Kori a smile and backs out. The last thing he sees is Kori shaking her head, amused, then he's back in the store proper. 

There he starts, catching sight of the man standing near the front counter, hands in his pockets.

"Jason?" he asks, slowly moving over to him.

Jason looks up at him, eyebrows raised in question. "Alterations, too?" is all he asks Dick, with a quick glance at the side _he_ must have come from.

"Yeah, figured I wouldn't be any help there."

The grin Jason gives him is almost sheepish, if he could imagine Jason looking sheepish. "Got kicked out. But I wouldn't have been any help either."

"Nope." Dick rocks back on his heels next to him, takes in the nearly empty shop, and asks, "So Donna pick something she likes?"

"Something she _loved_." Jason relaxes once Dick's standing by him. Dick tries not to read too much into that. "You shoulda' seen the look on her face. I'm kinda' afraid she'll leave Kori for that dress."

Dick snorts out a laugh. "Then Kori'll love it. She was just wondering now what Donna'd pick."

"I'll bet," Jason mutters. He's opening his mouth to say something else, when he's interrupted.

"Everything okay, guys?"

Dick's almost, almost not too proud to admit he jumps when another shop attendant's voice comes up behind him. Almost. Unfortunately, Jason definitely notices, no matter how surreptitiously Dick tries to edge away from the attendant and lean casually against the counter, judging by the way his lips are twitching.

"We're fine," Jason answers her. "Just waiting right now."

_Play it cool, Grayson. Play it cool._

"Oh!" The girl nods, arms folded around a clipboard. "The ladies getting fitted right now are your fiancées then?" She pauses, seeming to give serious thought to the idea of a double wedding. "Fiancée and a girlfriend?"

"No!" Dick blurts out, while Jason all but _cackles_ next to him. Oh no. "No, no. They're marrying _each other_!" He laughs, much more awkwardly than he'd like.

"Ohhhh." The girl nods again, thoughtful. "So do you know them? Or... Oh! Are you waiting for someone to fit _you_ for suits? Are you marrying _each other_ , I'm so sorry! I can make sure someone hurries and--"

That shuts Jason up real fast. "Ha, no. He's not--" Jason shakes his head quickly, eyes widening in something Dick thinks might actually be alarm. He thinks, because he's not entirely sure he's actually present himself right now. "We're not. We're just." He stops, turns to Dick, eyes pleading.

"Um," Dick says helpfully.

"We're not!" Jason turns back to the girl, waving his hands in front of him, after a quick, vicious glare in Dick's direction. "We're not marrying each other, they're our friends. We're here with _them_!"

The girl slaps a hand against her forehead. " _Hello_! I get it now." She gives them an apologetic look and shrugs. "Sorry, I'm kind of new here... And a double wedding sounded cute..."

"It's fine," Dick manages to say, forcing himself to ignore how warm his face feels. It probably won't be obvious with his complexion anyway. Right? "Thanks anyway though. It's... Fine."

With one last apologetic (and very bright) smile, the girl turns and walks away, leaving them standing in awkward silence.

It's. No big deal, he tells himself. Getting mistaken for a couple is no big deal, especially while in a bridal shop. Expected, even. With everything they've been doing together for this, it's probably surprising it hasn't happened before.

Hell, it probably _has_ already happened. How many people must have already thought they were a couple and just didn't say anything?

It's not a big deal.

And he's sure logic will calm his racing heart any second now.

Dick clears his throat. "So," he says slowly, wincing when his voice wavers.

Next to him, Jason shifts uncomfortably. "Yeah?"

"Sorry about that, that was awkward," he goes on, proud to note he keeps his voice steady this time.

Jason glances at him sideways.

"But, Jay?" he asks, not looking at Jason anymore. "I can't marry you before even the first date."

There's a beat of silence.

Jason slaps at his arm.

And misses by a mile when Dick sidesteps him, dissolving into laughter.

"Asshole," Jason mutters, almost fond. "Nah, I'll buy you dinner first, Dickie."

-

The more time passes, the more Bruce's phone number in his contacts seems to mock him.

One call. That's all it'd take. One call and he'd be done with this. They'd have everything squared away and he could _stop_ worrying about this. They could finish everything else, make sure Donna and Kori have the perfect wedding they deserve. They could see the two of them off for their year abroad and it'd be done. They'd have done it.

More immediately, it'd stop the frenzy Jason seems have begun to slowly work himself into the closer they get to their deadline. There's so much still to do and not a lot of time to do it and...

Jesus, Jason's going to freak out if he finds out Dick could have solved one of his problems already, isn't he?

Dick huffs out a sigh, blearily glancing down at his phone on the kitchen counter. He's just woken up, has just about given up on a decent breakfast, and there's his phone. Mocking him.

And he is getting so sick of just staring at it.

Maybe he could just tell Jason first instead, instead of talking to _Bruce_ about it first. Maybe it'd be easier, if he told someone he trusts first (because, apparently, he trusts Jason now). If he had someone to keep him honest in this. He's spent so long avoiding Bruce, so long doing his best to not even have to see him, that now?

He's at a loss now. How does he even talk to him? Especially when he doesn't even really _want_ to. No matter how much he misses him.

Dick runs a hand through his hair, then with a groan, drops his head down onto the counter.

 _Fuck_.

Fuck. All right.

He's telling Jason.

Then calling Bruce.

-

Soon enough, he's back in Jason's apartment, while his roommates are out again.

He's sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, just a few minutes after arriving, and flipping through a printout of the guest list Kori and Donna emailed them the day before. Jason's big list of possible locations is staring at him accusingly from the table, reminding him, with a pang of guilt, that they _do_ need somewhere to put all these people and not much time left to find it. Even without it, Jason seems determined to at least start figuring out what guests should and shouldn't go together.

If there's one thing Dick's learning, it's that _thorough_ doesn't even begin to describe Jason Todd.

With a strange glint in his eye, one Dick can only describe as 'dangerously excited,' Jason greeted him at the door when he arrived and informed him that they _needed_ to start figuring this out already. Just like they _needed_ to get moving on booking someplace. Dick could only smile tightly at the reminder, before being ushered into the living room. Moment of truth.

Probably.

Soon.

"Okay, so, Donna's grandfather and... What the fuck? Who the hell names their kid Ares?" Jason calls out from the kitchen, loud enough for his voice to carry, and Dick has to bite back a laugh at the utterly _baffled_ tone to his voice.

"Donna's great-grandparents!" he replies, sing-song. "He's fine though. Kinda' weird but... Trust me!" Donna's family is... colorful, to say the least, but Dick's used to dealing with them by now. "I don't know if there's anyone we've really gotta be careful of. Except maybe Kori's sister, but."

"But she's not invited!" Jason yells back, voice gleeful, just when the doorbell rings. "Hold on, Dickie, I gotta get that."

Turning his back to the table, Dick looks over the list again as he hears Jason open the door, then have a short conversation with someone. He doesn't pay much attention to that, figures it's probably one of the neighbors, and focuses on the list of names.

It's just about everyone he expected to be on the guest list, friends, family, _extended_ family--along with the wedding party. the best men, two bridesmaids each for Donna and Kori, and Lian as the flower girl: simple, small, exactly what he expected. And what Donna had already hinted at. Nothing to worry about there.

As long as they have somewhere where all of it can happen.

Dick glances at his phone on his lap, biting his lip. He should take care of it already, make things easier for them already.

He looks up at the sound of the door closing, at Jason's footsteps approaching the living room, and makes up his mind. He's bringing it up now. He's got no more excuses for putting it off, no more time to wait, with the wedding looming closer and closer.

He opens his mouth to speak, raises his head further. And stops once he actually catches sight of Jason.

"Was that a delivery guy?" he asks. Stupidly, he realizes a moment later.

Jason's got a plastic bag hanging off each arm, a smile Dick actually manages to recognize as tentative on his face. It's a smile he's seen on Jason before, though he's sure he's never quite identified it before, and it really makes this not looking too much into it thing hard.

"Dinner," Jason says, lifting one of the bags. "Told ya I'd buy you dinner first, didn't I?"

Dick's hard beats once, hard.

"What?" he manages to ask, all false bravado. Two can play at this game. "You gonna ask me to marry you next?"

Something flashes across Jason's expression, too fast for him to decipher. He's smirking right after, as he moves to drop the bags on the coffee table. "Maybe after a few more dinners."

With a wink at Dick, Jason drops down on the floor next to him. "Chinese," he explains. "That okay with you?"

"Chinese takeout," Dick says lightly, reaching for the container Jason shoves in his direction. "I'm seduced already."

"See?" Jason smirks. "Just a few more dates like this and we've got another wedding to plan."

Dick makes a show of rolling his eyes. A joke. It's just a joke. "Sure, just let me--"

Jason isn't looking at the table, or where the bags get shoved to, just at Dick, and Dick can't make himself look away from Jason's eyes just then. So the dull thud behind and to the left of Dick, between him and the edge of the table, comes without warning.

Dick starts, lowering the container he'd been opening down to his lap.

Jason blinks. "What the hell?" he mutters, leaning over Dick to get a closer look and.

That's. A lot closer than he expected, a lot faster than he expected.

He can feel Jason's breath on the side of his face, his arm pressed up to his.

Dick shakes his head and pushes Jason back with a hand to his shoulder. "No, hold on, I'll get it. It's..." Dick reaches behind him blindly, and pulls out... "It's a book?"

It's an old and worn little thing, a short story collection, judging by the title. An _old_ short story collection. He turns it over in his hands, the book flipping open to the front page.

"Shit." Jason whispers harshly. "I left that behind Artemis'... vase. Thing." He reaches for the book in Dick's hand, almost snatching it away, and Dick lets him. "I should have paid more attention, sorry. I can't believe I left it here, must have been when I fell asleep here yesterday... I'll just put it--"

" _Petirrojo_?" Dick asks suddenly. He's not sure if he butchered the pronunciation. The scrawled note--just a shorter word he doesn't recognize and what he thinks might be a name--in the inside cover looked like Spanish to him, but... It's French he knows. Not Spanish.

"What?"

Dick nods at the book, now held almost defensively against Jason's chest. This is... probably a little more personal than he thought. "Sorry, it was just..." He shakes his head, tries to smile reassuringly at Jason. "It was just written in it and I noticed. I shouldn't have looked though, just forget it." He knocks his shoulder against Jason's, trying to smooth the moment over, change the subject. "It's okay, right? Nothing torn?"

"Uh. Yeah, it's fine. It's." Jason looks away, pressing his lips together.

Dick waits, resisting the urge to drum his fingers against his thighs.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Dickie. It's just..." Jason pauses, still not quite looking at Dick, seeming more lost in thought than anything. Then he sighs and lowers the book down to his lap. And looks up, locking eyes with Dick, eyebrows drawn down.

(And that look still makes him a little weak in the knees.)

"It's from my mom," he confesses. "Both of them."

Dick nods and, seemingly emboldened by that simple action, Jason goes on, "It was my mom's book, when I was a kid. After she died, I didn't really get to keep any of our stuff. I." His voice drops to a whisper. "Long story short: I didn't stick around long enough for the foster system to get me. So I lost it. But after Renee adopted me... I don't know how she did it, haven't asked, but she got it back for me. And she wrote the message, even asked if she could do that. So it's... kinda' important, you know?"

"Thank you for telling me," Dick whispers.

"Yeah, well, consider it part of the Special Dick Privileges," he mutters and, when he turns his head slightly, Dick catches sight of a touch of color to his ears.

Fancy that.

He doesn't call him out on changing the definition of that special privileges thing of his.

"It means Robin, by the way. The whole thing says _To Robin_."

Dick starts, eyes widening. "Robin? Renee calls you that?"

Jason finally relaxes at the question, probably feels it's a safer one. He leans back against the table, in the same position Dick is, and looks up at the ceiling. " _Petirrojo_. But yeah. It's kinda' a cutesy nickname, I guess. But she loves it. Says I'm like her little bird or whatever." He looks at Dick sideways, features contorting into a scowl. "And I love my moms, but don't you say anything about this to anyone."

Dick huffs, then flashes Jason a small smile. "I won't. Consider it Special Jason Privileges."

"Damn right, Special Jason Privileges..." Jason trails off muttering, his face smoothing out.

He doesn't reach for his food and neither does Dick.

 _Petirrojo_ , Robin... There's a name he hasn't heard in _years_ (sixteen, exactly, he tries not to think), a nickname he honestly hadn't been interested in hearing from anyone else, out of sheer grief. But hearing it now? From Jason, specifically? What kind of coincidence is that?

He really is stuck in some kind of cheesy movie, isn't he?

Mirroring Jason, Dick looks up at the ceiling. He could tell him. It'd be only fair, after he told him that much about his own nickname. But more than that... He thinks he might actually want to tell him.

"Did you know," he says conversationally. " _My_ mom used to call me her Robin. When I was a kid."

"...No." Jason shifts next to him. "No shit?"

Dick grins. "No shit. She always said it was because I was born in spring." He shrugs a shoulder. "And because I was learning to fly like her and my dad. They..."

"Yeah." Jason's voice is soft, gentle, when he interrupts him. "I know what happened to your parents. It was all over the news then, you don't gotta..."

"Thanks." He shakes his head. "Anyway. It's kind of a nice coincidence."

"Yeah. Guess so."

Dick chances a glance at Jason, finds his expression has softened into something thoughtful.

"Yeah," Jason goes on. "It's pretty cool, Dickiebird."

Dick closes his eyes, but try as he might, he can't keep the grin off his face.

Jason's pretty good at that, he's finding, at testing Dick's control over himself.

"Dickiebird," he repeats.

There's a smile on Jason's face now, to match Dick's own, as he turns to look at him again. "What? You're a bird now, too, right?" he asks, as if that explains everything.

And it's. Ridiculous. It's absolutely ridiculous.

"Yeah," he says, looking up at Jason through his lashes. Because it's apparently just his kind of ridiculous, too. "Yeah, I guess I am, Jaybird."

"Ha!" Jason all but crows. "Roy beat you to that one already, you dickhead."

Dick taps a finger against his lower lip, pretending to be in thought. He doesn't even bother to try to stop the quirk of his lips this time. "Yeah? We have been friends a long time, you know." He winks at Jason, ignoring the way his heartbeat quickens even as he does it, the warmth spreading across his chest. "We've got good taste in nicknames."

Jason breathes out, shaking his head. "You mean you've got a shitty sense of humor like him?"

"Hey!" Dick protests, lightly shoving at Jason's side. "I have a shining sense of humor and sparkling wit!"

Jason, for his part, just carefully places his book next to him and reaches back for his own takeout container, turning sideways. "Keep telling yourself that, Dickie."

"I'm _charming_."

Jason's change in position, sitting sideways next to him, has the unexpected (but not entirely unwanted, he can just about admit to himself) side effect of putting their faces in close proximity when Dick turns his head to look at him.

Dick doesn't start, doesn't jump.

But damn does he want to.

"Charming," Jason says. He leans forward, just the slightest bit, elbows on his knees. "Amazingly, yeah, I think I can give you that."

"Thanks," he breathes out. And instantly wishes he could kick himself.

 _Thanks_? If that answer isn't the opposite of charming.

He gets no answer to that anyway. But Jason doesn't move either, doesn't look away, makes no effort to increase ( _or close_ ) the short, _short_ distance between them. He just looks at him, steady, eyes on his. And with an expression Dick can't even begin to identify.

And Dick doesn't move, doesn't look away. It feels like he'd lose if he did. What he'd be losing he doesn't know, but. He can't. He doesn't want to. And he's not sure just how much time passes, just how long Jason stares at him, expression slowly changing, to that soft one he catches occasional glimpses of.

And in the end, Jason is the first one to look away, the first one to lean back again. He clears his throat, points at Dick with the chopsticks he picks up off the table. "Eat up, Goldie. We gotta get back to work soon. Guests to figure out, places to put 'em..." He trails off, turning to his food.

Dick's brain clicks back online. That's it. That's the opening he missed before.

He breathes. His mind's made up.

"Jason." Dick reaches out, places a hand on Jason's wrist, before he can get distracted.

He looks up at Dick, chopsticks still halfway in his mouth and a question in his eyes. "What?"

"I know where..." He sighs. No, that's not the way. He pulls away from Jason, looks away and starts over. "I haven't told you yet. Not you or Donna or Kory, but... My dad. Bruce. He'd be okay with the wedding being at his house. He offered. And I think Donna would like it."

Jason chews, swallows. "When'd he say?"

"Couple months ago," Dick mutters. "I found out the same day as our second meeting for..." He gestures vaguely, not sure himself what he's trying to convey. "All of this."

Jason blinks. He... Doesn't seem mad. "And you didn't tell me sooner," he says, very slowly.

Dick frowns. "I didn't. I should have." He sighs and clamps down on the urge to fidget. He hates this. "I totally let you freak out about it."

Jason scowls. "I didn't _freak out_. We had it under control! We don't need his place."

"For now," Dick mumbles.

Jason looks at him, frowning. It leaves Dick feeling a little like he's being scrutinized. "Fuck," he hears Jason mutter, before he's shaking his head, leaning right back into Dick's space again. "I don't get it. You don't really talk to your old man anymore, do you?" At the look on Dick's face, Jason goes on, "I did see you guys in Kate's wedding. And Kori's... said some things. Nothing outright. I got the feeling none of you really talk about it."

"We don't," Dick admits. "But I'll talk to him for this. It's not a big deal, I'll just--"

"So why'd you wanna talk to him? What happened with you guys?"

Dick looks up at Jason and, not for the first time, catches him looking... Unsure? Embarrassed? He's still not sure. "Shit. Fuck, no. Never mind. You don't have to tell me. It's personal, I shouldn't have--"

And Dick, he really, really doesn't want to talk about it. But he can at least reassure him a little. "It's fine. I left you hanging with this," he says, loud enough to stop Jason's stuttering in its tracks. "It's stupid anyway. We're just..." He lets out a laugh, cringes a little at how it sounds. "We're just stubborn, Jay. We fought a lot as I got older and... He bites his lip, looking down at his hands. "It's stupid, Jay."

"Yeah, but it's the kind of stupid that's got _you_ stupid now. Something happened with you guys and I don't know what it was, but--"

"I don't know what happened _either_ , Jason," he practically snaps. Before he knows it, the words are spilling out and, _Christ_. As if he needed any more proof he's lost completely control of his life. "When I was a kid, I used to be so scared I'd get taken away, you know? And then I got older and we kept butting heads over everything and. And I couldn't wait to get away! I didn't wanna be anywhere near him anymore. Bruce was always just so... So impossible over everything I did. I swear, he just hated _everything_ I did. So I just did it, I just left and I don't. I don't know why got like that. He _never_ acted like that when I was a kid and--"

There's a hand on his shoulder, gentle and warm. "Dick?"

He looks up and Jason's looking down at him, a little concerned, a lot bewildered.

And he totally did just. He just. Jason doesn't deserve that.

"Sorry!" Dick blurts, jerking away from Jason's hand. "Sorry, I shouldn't have dumped that on you like that. Just the cliffnotes would have been fine, yeah?" He's babbling, he's well aware of it even as he can't stop himself from running his mouth. It's. Embarrassing. Nowhere near how he usually tries to present himself.

Shit. Maybe Babs was right, of course she was right, the million and one times she tried to get him to talk about Bruce. Roy, too. How many times did Roy try to bring it up, try to bring up Ollie just to show he understood. He tried. She tried, they both tried so many times.

Dick knew it himself, even, knew shoving it all in the back of the metaphorical closet was a bad idea. But he never listens, does he?

"Sorry." He keeps talking, setting his food aside and blindly gathering up the few papers on the table that were his to begin with. He shakes his head, flashes a still staring Jason the best smile he can at the moment. "I'll talk to my dad, but I should go now. Long shift again yesterday and--"

"Dick. Dick, hold on. You're so not--"

He rises to his feet. He's fine. He's fine. He just needs a moment to gather himself. Then he can talk to Jason about this. "Just. Call me later. Sorry."

Cursing himself every kind of coward, Dick's out of the living room before either of them can say anything else. He hears Jason scramble to his feet just as he reaches the door, just as he opens it, and.

He doesn't stick around.

He leaves the apartment and, when he runs into Artemis in the hallway, he can only offer her a smile, before ducking into the elevator.

 _Jesus_.

This is why he didn't want anything to do with Bruce.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a pain in the ass.
> 
> But nothing remotely bad really happens to anyone for long in this fic. No worries.
> 
> Thanks for all your feedback, everyone! ♥


	6. or rob me blind

The truth is he's always been more like Bruce than people give him credit for. He might have been happy about it, once, about being so much like his new father. But it's hard to remember those times now, hard to remember a time before growing into a teenager and realizing he loved his father, but he didn't want to _be_ like him. Even the feeling is hard to remember now, especially now. When he finds himself reacting just how he thinks Bruce would.

Dick heads straight back to Blüdhaven after leaving Jason's apartment and spends the rest of his Saturday ignoring the phone.

He sulks, he broods, he pulls away from anyone who tries to talk to him and he _hates_ it. But he _hates_ the idea of actually talking to anyone then even more, so much it doesn't even compare.

And hates that just running his mouth like that in front of Jason was enough to get him to panic, and hates even more that he ran his mouth at all. And it's not even about _Jason_. Jason was nothing but understanding, if confused, and _Jesus_ , did he really just run out on him?

By the time he finally checks his phone again, where he left it on the kitchen counter, it's Sunday morning and he's got two missed calls from Jason, one from Roy, and text messages from both.

Fuck.

He takes a moment just to hide his face in his hands, elbows on the counter, and take a deep breath.

All right. Time to deal with the consequences of the fact that he can't even talk about his father like a normal fucking person.

He's got no choice.

He checks Roy first, sees he only has one message from him.

_dick what the fuck?? jay's worried about you?? he wanted to know if i'd heard from you?_

Dick bites his lip and settles on _i'm fine sorry. nothing to worry about! i'll talk to him_ as an answer. He has no illusions about Roy actually believing him, especially depending on just what Jason told him, but. It's not like it'd be the first time.

And Jason. He's got five messages from Jason and, even over text, he can see the steady increase in worry.

_dick what the fuck? it wasn't a big deal_

_we were all sharing and caring and whatever it's fine_

_i thought i was the one who overreacted in this outfit???_

_dick come on_

_did you at least get home ok?_

God. He's an asshole, he's such an asshole, he thinks, guilt curling around his gut. He unloads all his fucking baggage on the guy like it's fucking nothing, then runs off on him. And Jason's still _worried_ about him?

How do any of his friends put up with him?

 _sorry_ he finally texts back, more mortified than he cares to admit. _i got home ok yesterday_.

Jason's reply comes almost instantly, before Dick can even close his messages. _jesus christ dick what the fuck???_

_i thought you said it was fine_

He's deflecting, maybe. But Jason doesn't take the bait.

_yeah no. it's fine but i can still yell at you_

And how stupid is it that that's the reply that actually reassures him a little? _i kinda deserve it_

_fuck yeah you do what the fuck i was worried about you_

Dick frowns. It's probably definitely not the time to focus on the fact that Jason admitting he was worried about him has his stomach doing flips, is it?

Rather than answering, he dials Jason's number. It rings only once, then he's got Jason's voice in his ear, tight and tense.

" _Dick, what are you--_ "

"Sorry. I was kind of an ass."

" _Kinda'!_ " Jason snaps.

"I should've said something sooner, I was just..."

Jason sighs. " _Freaking out about talking to your old man?_ "

Dick sighs. "Yeah. Yeah, I was." He winces. "And I'm so sorry I dumped all of that on you, Jason. I'm not usually..."

" _You're not usually_ ," Jason agrees, as if that explains everything. "But you're not..." He huffs and, for the first time, it really sinks in that Dick's not the only one out of sorts in this conversation. There's a nervous edge to his voice, which somehow manages to make Dick relax, knowing he's not alone in this. " _But you can be... Fuck it. You can be not._ "

"What?" he asks dumbly.

" _I'm saying you can freak out, Dick!_ " And Jason says his name in such a way, that it turns into one of those times where he genuinely can't tell whether someone's actually saying his name or insulting him. " _You didn't have to run away like that. We could've argued over you not telling me about this and you could've complained about your dad and everything. And..._ " Jason clears his throat. " _And you didn't even let us yell at each other!_ "

"You want me to yell at you." Dick doesn't bother to make it a question.

There's a sudden puff of laughter in Dick's ear and Jason says, " _Think of it as returning the favor_ ," his voice beginning to lose some of that tightness.

"That's the sweetest thing you've ever said to me," he answers dryly and, "You never did tell me what that was about, you know," he dares to say, for the first time.

The reply is immediate. " _Shut up, Dickiebird._ " In an undertone, Jason adds, " _I'll tell you some other time._ "

Despite himself, Dick can't help a little smile at that.

" _Look, just text me your address or something and I'll--_ "

"You're not coming all the way out to Blüdhaven," Dick blurts out, barely even hearing what Jason's saying.

" _Hell yes, I am. I'm coming right now._ "

" _Why_?" Dick straightens up, eyeing the unwashed dishes in the sink and thinking of the piles of paper scattered across his living room. The fact that it'd be Jason in Dick's apartment aside, Jason's... neat. Ridiculously neat. _Too_ neat for what Tim keeps calling Dick's shithole of an apartment. "You don't have to come all the way over here."

" _Because it's just half an hour away, Artemis has company right now, who the hell knows where Biz is, and you freaked out yesterday and we've still got a wedding to finish planning, you dickhead._ " Jason pauses for breath, then, " _And we both work tomorrow._ "

"Right," Dick says faintly. He thinks he might need a minute to catch up, just to figure out how he went from apologizing for his outburst to Jason inviting himself over to his apartment. But he's right. They're running out of time to get everything sorted out and. He does really, kind of, sort of (definitely) want to see Jason anyway. Definitely.

He was smooth once upon a time, wasn't he? Charming, confident? It's getting hard to remember.

"Sure."

" _Be there in thirty_ ," Jason says, then hangs up.

Shit.

-

By the time he hears the knock at his door, Dick's sure his heart must be beating so loudly that his neighbors can hear it. Hell, he's sure his landlady can hear it all the way down on the ground floor. It's different somehow, from visiting Jason's apartment. Though maybe it's just what prompted the visit that's making him think that.

He takes one last look around the living room--still messy, but better after the last few minutes of frantic cleaning--and, kicking aside a pair of boots in the process, rushes to the door and pulls it open.

So he kind of cleaned really hastily.

He takes a moment to catch his breath. "Jason. Hi."

Jason _smiles_ at him. It's a little sardonic, a little less sure than usual, but he's still standing there at Dick's doorstep, in his stupid leather jacket, with hair just a step above helmet head and his stupid hyper-organized folder under his arm, _smiling_ at him.

He's charmed, all right.

"Hey, Dickiebird," Jason greets him, "Gonna invite me in?"

"Yeah. Yeah, come in." Dick manages to grin, bright and cheery, and mean it.

He steps aside to let Jason enter and motions him toward the living room, just steps away from the front door.

"You know, Dickie," Jason drawls, settling down on Dick's couch. "It kinda' looks neater than I expected. Messy, but..."

Dick rolls his eyes and definitely, absolutely does not mention his last minute cleaning. "We can't all be as neat as you, Jaybird."

With Jason already here, already being a smart-ass, and not even yelling like he said he should, his heart no longer feels like it's about to somersault right out of his chest. Dick moves to sit next to him then, between him and the arm of the couch. Which happens to be right next to a pile of old notes he surreptitiously pushes behind a throw pillow Cass gave him once.

Jason, of course, notices.

"Yeah... that seems more like you," Jason murmurs.

"Just show me what we've got to work with, you ass." Dick laughs, making a show of reaching for Jason's folder.

He just holds it out of Dick's reach, raising an eyebrow. "Thanks to me," he says, tapping the edge of the file against the top of Dick's head, then quickly moving it out of his reach again. "And thanks to me talking to Kori last night, we now have an entire list of everything we need to watch out for with the guests. Such as! Watching out for her weird aunts."

Dick shrugs. "I figured. Donna's got a weird family. A weird, _big_ family."

"Yes, she does. And, _regardless_ of wherever the hell we end up putting them. We've got this now so we don't end up with a literal Greek tragedy on our hands, Dickie."

Dick nods, lips twitching. He can see this with better humor now. He can. He has to. "Not wherever the hell. I'm taking care of it. Trust me."

Jason frowns at him, suddenly serious. "And you're okay, right?"

Thrown by the sudden switch, Dick blinks, then, "I'm fine, yeah, I told you. I'm sorry I freaked out on you. It was stupid of me."

"Don't give me that." At Dick's _look_ , Jason elaborates, "That weird 'oh, I'm just fine' bullshit. I seriously thought you were gonna cry yesterday, that's not just someone who didn't sleep enough. Not from you." He huffs. "Not that I'm advocating sharing and caring some more here, but..."

"I did not look like I was going to cry," Dick says automatically, before recovering himself. "Since when do you know me so well?" he quips, trying to make it a joke. He's stalling, and poorly at that, but it's all he's got at the moment.

"I pay attention," he says, echoing his words from before. "And that ain't you."

Dick purses his lips. He could lie. With a little finesse, he could probably still have Jason believing it was nothing, that he's fine. But. Maybe he doesn't want to.

He looks up, meets Jason's eyes. He's only _really_ known him for a little over two months now. He's only really been speaking to him at all for those two months. But seeing the way he's looking at Dick, steady, patient. Damn, does he just want to talk.

"My dad's a sore subject," he settles on saying, with a small, lopsided smile. "I don't know how much of that you caught yesterday, but..."

"I think I caught most of it," Jason says softly.

"Yeah, of course you did..." Dick nods. "We got along really great when I was a kid, you know? But then when I got older." He shrugs helplessly. "Like I said. I still don't know what happened. We butted heads over everything. Alfred, he..." Dick stops, suddenly wondering just how douchey mentioning a _butler_ is going to make him sound.

Jason seems to understand what he's getting at though, judging by the amused look that steals over his face. "I know about Alfred. I _have_ been to that house, Dickie. Even went a few times while we were still in school."

"Wait. Seriously?" Dick's eyes widen, as he racks his brain for any recollection of that and finds none. "With Cass?"

"Yep." Jason sounds almost gleeful. "You keep forgetting I'm friends with your sister. Hell, I think you used to forget it then, too. You never noticed when I was there."

Great. Just great. He was the asshole big brother who never even noticed when his sister's best school friend came over, of course he was. Where did he hide his head all those years? "Sorry." He winces.

"Nah, I don't care." Jason leans back against the couch cushions, his eyes still on Dick's. "Back then, you and I, we just..."

"Ran in different circles?"

"More or less. Yeah. I wasn't expectin' you to notice me then. I wasn't gonna hold it against you."

"You held something against me then," Dick points out.

Jason flushes. "Again," he grumbles. "I told you. I'll tell you about it some other time, okay? Weren't we talking about your old man and your butler?"

It's an obvious deflection, but he figures Jason's let enough of Dick doing just that slide. "Yeah, yeah." He looks away, breaking eye contact. "Alfred told me once that Bruce just wasn't handling me actually growing up well, you know? But I don't know. Alfred's always so diplomatic and, if that was it, it feels like that should have only lasted for a while anyway. And I know he hated the job I was aiming for, but..."

"He does sound kinda' like an ass though."

Dick looks up, brows drawn, and Jason holds his hands up. "He does though! I'm not saying he's a bad guy. I don't know the guy that well." Jason frowns and amends, "Okay, I know a lot about him through Kate, but. It still kinda' sounds like..."

"Like he's really bad at all of this," Dick finishes for him. He rolls his eyes. "And kind of an ass. Yeah. But that's still not..." He shakes his head helplessly.

"Sheesh, I can't tell you either. It's just you and him who know. And if you can't figure it out, what am I supposed to tell you?"

Dick runs a hand through his hair, settling back against the arm of the couch. "So if I want to figure this mess out, you want me to, what? Talk to my dad? Apologize to him?"

"Fuck no." Jason laughs, disbelieving. "I don't know shit about any of this either, Dickie. Me and Renee? Someone gets mad, we just yell at each other, then avoid each other for a while. It works for us. I don't know about you and your old man. _We_ never fought over every little thing."

"Well, I have to talk to him to now anyway." Dick grimaces. "I mean, I don't have to. But it doesn't feel right to just use his house without even talking to _him_. So..." He pinches the bridge of his nose. "So I guess we can talk now." He scoffs. "Or fight and I run away from Gotham for five years this time."

"I'd kinda' rather you didn't," Jason says. "But I guess I do know where you live now."

"Jason..."

"What?" he asks, defensive. "You're a fucking asshole, but I like you anyway, you dick."

Dick snickers. "Okay, _that's_ the sweetest thing you've ever said to me. I take it back."

"You bet your ass it is. But," he pauses and Jason speaks slowly then, his next words sounding like he has to carefully pick each one of them out, carefully inspect and consider them. "Seriously, Dick. Location or not... Talk to the guy or don't. Whatever. I told you. We don't need his place."

And that, strangely enough, is what helps him come to a real decision.

The comfortable silence that's becoming more common falls between them and Dick sighs. It's half relief, half finally knowing just what he should do. Just what he _wants_ to do.

"I'll do it," he says, breaking the silence. He holds up a hand when it looks like Jason might object. "Thank you. For worrying about me."

"Yeah, yeah," Jason grumbles, looking down at his jacket sleeves. "Don't mention it. Seriously." In the silence that follows that, Jason shifts next to him and sighs, deflating. "Sorry for. Making you uncomfortable, I guess."

"For worrying about me?" he repeats, incredulous this time. "You don't have to apologize for that."

"For hearing all of that. I got the impression it's not really something you go around telling people." Jason hesitates, seeming to mull something over. Eventually, he presses his lips into a thin line, but doesn't look at Dick yet. "I know we don't know each other that well yet. But you're... Fuck, you're a pretty okay guy and--"

"Just okay?" Dick cuts in dryly.

"Shut up! I'm trying to be serious here."

"Far be it from me to stop you," Dick says, thinking he might be finding his feet again in this conversation.

Jason shoots him a dark look, though it quickly melts away. "You're a pretty okay guy and I like this you a lot better than the one I knew before, okay?"

Dick winces again. "I guess I probably deserved you disliking me back then."

"Never said I disliked you," Jason mumbles.

"What?"

" _Nothing_. What I'm trying to say is, after everything you told me..." He makes a vague, frustrated gesture and Dick can almost picture him waving one of the cigarettes he's never seen, but certainly smelled on Jason a few times, just like that. "I don't know what the fuck I'm trying to say."

Dick reaches out to rest a hand on Jason's wrist. "It's fine. You don't have to say anything else." He winks. "Special Jason Privileges, right?"

Jason snorts. Then a small smile curves his lips, nothing confident about it, but there's still something nice about it. Comforting, when it's directed at him. It might not be the cartwheels his heart usually does when Jason smiles at him, but this warm, pleased feeling in his chest is just as good.

"Anyway," Dick says, ducking his head. He doesn't want to linger on this any longer. "We've still got wedding planning to get done. And. I owe you dinner now." At Jason's questioning look, Dick grins. "I didn't eat the food you bought me for your seduction plan. My turn now."

Jason smile widens slowly, into something closer to that grin he's more familiar with. "Nah, you got it backwards, Dickiebird. I had to buy you dinner before we went and eloped. And you sure ain't the one who's gonna ask me to run away with you."

"Run away with you?" Dick sits up. Playing along seems a little like a bad idea, but he just can't resist this time either. He hasn't been able to resist since that afternoon in the Wayne Foundation building. "The way I heard it, you were going to ask me to _marry_ you, like Donna and Kori, not run away with you."

Jason mimics his position, bringing him and Dick in close proximity again when he sits up. "Pfft, no. That was before I really thought about it. We've both got these crazy rich, _crazy_ families--because the Kanes are honorary family or whatever now for me. You really wanna have a wedding with them breathing over our shoulders?" He snaps his fingers. "We've gotta elope."

Dick swallows, but he's committed to this game of theirs now. He bats his eyelashes at Jason, as exaggerated as he can, then asks, "And what makes you think I'll say yes? Not that your Chinese takeout seduction plan didn't already work," he adds, dry.

"I'm pretty sexy, you know. Got the leather jacket and all. I think..." Jason's pauses and his confident look falters, just for a moment, before his expression smoothes back out. Oddly, it slows Dick's heartbeat some. "I don't know," Jason says. And Dick can tell he's going for a light tone, something joking and playful. But it falls flat. "A guy like you... What'd make him wanna run away with a guy like me?"

Jason's voice is just too soft now, something a little more earnest to it that makes Dick's very heart ache. Jason's still kidding, still playing around with him, he's sure, but.

But he isn't sure at all.

"Lots of reasons," Dick breathes, "Don't sell yourself short. You're handsome and... so smart. And so caring, you wouldn't have done all of this for Kori if you weren't. And talking to you's--"

Jason's eyes widen in genuine surprise, then he's shaking his head, a small, shaky quirk to his lips. "I think you can stop there, Dickie."

But Dick, he's warming to the topic, and it's dangerous to be so honest here, but he couldn't stop himself from letting out what's been swirling around his head for the past months even if he tried. Even if it is, partly, under the pretense of a game. "Who wouldn't wanna run away with a guy who's so passionate when he--"

Jason's breathless laugh interrupts him then, but it's not until Jason reaches out and tips Dick's chin up that he really falls silent.

Oh.

"Okay, Dickie, you win. I kinda' thought you'd just..."

"Not actually compliment you?" Dick asks, holding himself still. He's hyper-aware of Jason's hand at his chin, at his jaw, but he doesn't think Jason himself notices when he moves to cup his cheek, not while he's stubbornly looking at something just to Dick's right now.

"Something like that. Kiiinda thought you'd stick to the sexy part."

Jason lets out a breath and, when he looks up, startles when he realizes where his hand is now. But Dick moves before Jason can pull his hand away from Dick's face, and gently places his own hand over Jason's.

He's not sure what he's doing anymore.

He looks helplessly up at Jason, as unwilling to look away as he is to let Jason draw his hand back right now.

"Dick? Do me a favor." Jason waits for Dick's nod, before drawing in a deep breath and saying, "Stop me if I'm reading this wrong, all right?"

Dick doesn't think, not this time.

Jason leans in and it's easy as anything to meet him halfway, to meet his lips with a gentle brush of his own. The hand on his cheek stays in place even as he slides his own hand down Jason's arm to his shoulder and _this is really happening_.

It feels like only seconds pass before Jason pulls away, but Dick chases after him and murmurs against his lips, "You're reading this right." Then he's pressing his lips against his again in earnest, tilting his head, deepening the kiss. The hand on his cheek slides up to tangle in his hair and Jason's other arm wraps around his back, drawing him closer, and Dick lets it, lets himself press up against Jason, and rests his free hand on his chest, in the small space between them.

 _This is really happening_. Months of playing at the lovesick fool, dancing around whether either of them was actually flirting, and here he is, pressed right up against Jason, his lips on his. Relief floods his chest at the very thought, at the realization he wasn't just looking for the impossible here.

Dick almost whines when Jason pulls away again. It's the first kiss he's had in ages and, if he's honest with himself, he doesn't want it to stop, but Jason drops a kiss on his cheek, another along the line of his jaw, and that's. That's good. That's good, too. He'll take it. Jason doesn't pull any farther away either, just lowers his arm to rest around Dick's waist and.

Yeah, he'll take that, too. That's all right, too.

It takes him a moment to recover himself, to _think_ clearly again. Jason laughs softly into the space between them, when Dick's brain still isn't fully back online and, when it finally kick starts, Dick joins him, resting his forehead against Jason's jaw.

It helps, that Jason looks just about as blown away as he feels.

And that he's practically on Jason's lap by now.

That helps, too.

Dick sighs. "You really wanna--"

"Fuck yes."

Pressed so close together, Dick can _feel_ the vibration of his voice when he speaks, that low rumble. With a shiver, he presses in even closer and almost misses it when Jason asks, "And you?" his voice suddenly smaller, hesitant.

"Been wanting to do that for a while," Dick admits.

Jason's thumb brushes his cheek, feather soft. "A little longer for me, I think."

"Yeah?"

Jason snorts. "Yeah. Trust me."

Dick hums and, Jesus, he can't stop smiling. "That something else you'll tell me about later?"

"Yeah, Dickie. I promise." He sighs and Dick can't quite see his face, but he can picture sardonic expression that goes with the words. "Fuck, I'll tell you everything. Why the hell not?"

"All right. I can wait," he says, and means it. Right now, he feels like nothing at all could ever bother him and he's more than willing to ride this wave for a little longer. Though he can't help himself from adding, teasing, "If you've really gotta catch your breath already..." as he draws away, looking up at Jason through his lashes.

Jason frowns abruptly, eyes still on Dick. Then he rolls his eyes, and says under his breath, "Jesus, fuck it." Then, just as abruptly, he's kissing him again and Dick smiles against his lips, hooking his fingers in Jason's jacket lapels to pull him closer, closer, closer.

Jason's more than eager to follow.

-

In the end, it's another good, long while before either of them settles down enough to do what Jason actually came for in the first place.

They pull away and Jason produces the guest list again and that just ends with his jacket draped over the side of the couch, when Dick pushes it off his shoulders, then wraps his arms around his shoulders, gripping at the fabric of his shirt. As if in response, Jason slips his hands down and under Dick's shirt, to rest at the small of his back, kissing him sweetly, slowly.

They pull away and, right after deciding that, _yes_ the lawns are the best place in the manor for a wedding, Dick's back is to the arm of the couch and he's pulling Jason on top of him again, as Jason licks into his mouth, drawing a low moan out of him.

They pull away and, this time, halfway through comparing Dick's knowledge of the manor lawns with Jason's vague memories of it, they end up with Jason's lips on Dick's throat, and _fuck_ , he thinks he might have short-circuited for a moment there. He tilts his head back and sighs, gives Jason more room even as he's still gripping his shoulders tightly.

Never mind the fact that it's been ages since he last kissed anyone. He can't even remember the last time he kissed someone like this, making out like a teenager on the couch, all soft nips and wandering hands, legs intertwined together.

He doesn't even care, isn't in any kind of hurry to stop. And neither, it seems, is Jason, not even to go back to his lists and color-coordinated charts.

"So," Dick gasps out, eventually, when they part for breath--because, he thinks, even teenagers making out would have better control of their lungs than he does right now--more distance between them now than all of the other times. "As far as first kisses go, that wasn't bad, huh?" He tries for a light, unconcerned tone, but it comes out breathless before anything else.

Jason gives him a slow smirk. "That was all one kiss? All of it?"

"Yeah." Dick doesn't smile, but he's sure Jason can hear it in his voice anyway. "'Course it was, what else would it be?"

"Hm. So should the second one be before or after making the seating chart?"

"Oh, Jaybird," Dick says, mock earnest. "Seating charts. And I bet they're color-coded! If what you wanted was for me to elope with you, I think it's working."

Jason chucks him under the chin. "Laugh it up, you dickhead."

"The answer's before, by the way."

In the end, night's fallen by the time they _do_ get that part of wedding planning done, by the time they've got Jason's perfect color-coded seating chart done. Dinner's takeout again, Dick's treat this time. But the real difference this time is that, halfway through another joke about something he can't even remember anymore, Dick's got Jason pressed up against the kitchen counter, lips and teeth at his throat.

And in the end, when Jason has to leave, when reality and Monday's responsibilities come crashing back down on them, Jason kisses him again at his doorstep, and it's a long, drawn-out affair, kissing goodbye. And he doesn't want to let go, suspects Jason doesn't either, by the way he lingers. He considers, for all of a second, asking him to stay the night, but Jason murmurs something about having to leave, about work, and all too soon, he's leaving his apartment, his apartment building, the sound of the heavy main door closing echoing all the way up the stairs, up to the top floor.

And, still riding high, feeling a little like he's invincible, Dick slowly wanders back into the living room, picks up his phone and, barely even looking at it, dials a number he hasn't in years.

The person on the other side of the line answers on the second ring.

Dick speaks before he can. And his voice wavers, his fingers clutch the phone just a little too tightly, but he's doing this. "Bruce? Yeah, it's me. Can we talk?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...hi. I'm sorry, I seem to have surprised even myself with how sappy this has gotten.
> 
> I'm taking all these characters' phones away, someone's gotta take these italics away from me.
> 
> Thanks for all the feedback! ♥


	7. so long as all your doors are flung wide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm late! I'm late! Sorry, guys. Finals were a pain (don't go to grad school, kids), this turned out to be one of those chapters that needed a lot of editing because I'd written it while half-asleep, and I got really into a new show. Oops??

" _Dick?_ "

"Yeah, it's me. Can we talk?"

There's silence for the space of a heartbeat, nothing but the startled sound of Bruce's breath--and once he would have been proud of that, would have been proud to surprise his normally unflappable father, but now all he can feel is a vague. A vague something. Maybe sadness.

He doesn't know.

" _Of course, Dick,_ " Bruce says at length, his voice now once again under perfect control. He's always been too good at that. " _But if it's about my offer, there's no need. The answer's yes, Dick, we don't have to--_ "

"I want to talk to you, Bruce," Dick interrupts, closing his eyes. "Face to face. It's time I stopped running away from you."

Judging by the silence that answers him, he thinks he might have surprise Bruce. Again. Just by asking to talk to him.

_You're on a roll, Grayson._

There's another moment's silence, then Bruce answers, " _All. All right, of course. When can you meet? I'm not sure what your schedule is anymore._ "

And just how many times has he even heard Bruce stutter since he met him? The man has always had perfect fucking diction even while shouting. But this? This just has Dick's heart clenching in his chest, the last of the airy, light feeling that Jason's visit left him with finally fading away.

He misses it already.

"If I know you, and I'm pretty sure I do, you have an idea what my schedule is, Bruce." Dick almost smiles as he says it, though amused is about the last thing he feels right now. Bruce is the worst kind of control freak in some aspects, there's no way he hasn't found out from one of Dick's siblings by now. And, well. Takes one to know one anyway.

" _Fair enough._ " Bruce lets out a breath, just on the edge of a chuckle--a familiar sound. " _Do you have time before work tomorrow? I can take some time to meet you in Blüdhaven._ "

"No, I'll go to the manor before work tomorrow." Dick pulls his phone away, then hesitates, staring at Bruce's name on his screen. Slowly, without really listening to Bruce's response, he pulls it close again and says, "See you, Bruce."

He hangs up.

And it's over. Just a quick phone call. And that's it. He's ripped off the band-aid after four years, stopped hiding after four years. A few sentences over the phone and suddenly he's barreling straight at everything he's been working so hard to avoid.

Dick rolls his eyes at himself. No, that's not right at all. It's not sudden at all. This whole thing has been gradual, hasn't it. All it took was wanting to help his best friend to get the ball rolling. He's been on a collision course with everything he left behind since the moment he offered to help Donna with her wedding. The least he can do now is see it all through to the end.

He wants to.

The rest of the evening goes by in a haze. He talks to Cass, texts Tim, doesn't mention Bruce to either of them, and ends up in a phone call with Roy he can't remember a single word of afterwards. His head's all over the place and he's pacing around his living room before he even realizes it.

He can't think about Bruce, can't think about tomorrow, not without trying to run every possible way the conversation could go through his head. It could be a short, awkward conversation, it could be long and involved and still just end in another fight, or it could actually go well and--

And he has to stop. He _knows_ where overthinking this will lead and it's nowhere good. He knows he already spends enough time in his own head without going and overthinking this, too. But he can't even throw himself into work, not when he can barely even focus, can barely even think of anything but the next day. And wedding work...

They're just about done, Dick realizes suddenly. The wedding date's not very far away now and they've managed to get just about everything done. Kori and Donna have long since sent out the invitations, almost everything's booked, almost everything's reserved. They've actually pulled it off, him and Jason and.

And Jason. Thinking of Jason is enough to still his steps, right in the middle of the living room, and to bring the light, airy feeling back, if only for a moment. It brings a pleasant warmth to his chest and it only grows at the thought of seeing him again soon.

He's not surprised to find himself smiling.

The urge to do something incredibly stupid and sappy, like letting himself fall onto his couch and clutch a throw pillow to his chest, like something straight out of some rom-com, nearly bowls him over. But, damn it all, no, he's a grown-ass man and he will absolutely not be doing that.

Yet.

He laughs softly to himself and, giving up the rest of the night as a lost cause, gets himself ready for bed.

His phone buzzes just as he's settling into bed and, when he unlocks it, he finds a message from none other than _Jason Todd_ himself.

_goodnight dickiebird_

It's simple, just a quick goodnight, but.

_night jaybird_

But it means he's thinking about him now, too, at the same time Dick is and he gives up. He's a total fucking sap and his friends can never, ever know. Ever.

Dick hides his grin in his pillow.

-

Dick wakes the next day in a panic. 

_What the fuck._

He sits up in bed and scrambles for his phone just seconds after his eyes snap open. He has to look at his call log and his text messages, once, twice, three times before his brain can accept that, yes, the previous day did happen. It was real, not some whacked out dream brought on by sleep deprivation and shame. He really did spend the better part of the evening making out with _Jason Peter Todd_ , then call his father to arrange to _talk_.

It all happened, every single part of it.

He's frozen like that, kneeling on his bed with his elbows on the nightstand and still _staring_ at his phone screen, just watching it dim and turn dark, when it lights up with another message. From Jason.

It's another simple message, wishing him a good morning, mentioning he's getting ready for work, something sarcastic. Nothing that would be out of place in their usual early morning phone calls. But Dick doesn't answer. He stares at his phone, then dials Jason's number.

It's barely rung once when Jason picks up and Dick doesn't wait. He blurts out, "I'm going to talk to Bruce today," and that. Isn't what he meant to say.

He almost believes he can hear the confusion over in Jason's end before he answers. " _Yeah?_ "

"Yeah," Dick breathes out, forcing his voice to steady. He's fine. He's perfectly fine. "I think it's better if I do this sooner, rather than later."

Jason hums in answer and, in the background, Dick can hear the usual clanking of him making breakfast, thinks he can even hear Artemis' voice somewhere in the distance, along with another male voice he doesn't recognize. It doesn’t feel any different from any of their phone calls--he'd almost call it comforting and familiar--except for what they're talking about in the first place.

" _All right_ ," Jason says, breaking into his thoughts. " _If that's what you wanna do._ "

"It is." He blows out a breath, closing his eyes. Yes. It's exactly what he wants to do. "Thank you, Jay. For all of that." His outburst's still more than a little embarrassing, but he can't deny Jason was pretty damn great about it.

" _Yeah, no problem_ ," Jason says faintly.

Dick frowns. He didn't notice when he first spoke, too wrapped up in his own news, but there's something guarded about Jason's voice, something hesitant. And he's just about to ask, thinking he might just not be looking forward to something at work today, when he stops, eyes widening.

 _Oh_.

He's an idiot.

"Jay?" he asks, making sure to drop the serious tone for now. That can wait. "Yesterday... Last night. Please tell me I didn't imagine any of that." He bites his lip, biting back the smile that's threatening to split his face, then stops trying. No one can see him right now anyway.

There's a huff of laughter from Jason's end, the sound a little more relieved than Jason's probably willing to admit. " _Yeah, it happened. I don't think your brain could come up with a guy like that, Dickie._ "

It's all exaggerated, false confidence, but it's good to hear nonetheless. Anything but that hesitant tone he took on before.

"Hm. Probably not, but I'll have to make sure. You know when I can see the guy of my dreams again?"

Jason chokes on air. Dick's a little proud of it, to be completely honest.

" _Jesus fucking Christ, Dickie, warn a guy,_ " he wheezes, a particularly loud clang of utensils following it. " _You can't just... You can't just say things like that!_ "

Dick grins, smug. That reaction... "Sure can. And sure just did."

" _Dick_."

Dick barrels on. All right, if he's going to be a total lovesick teenager about this whole thing with Jason, the least he can do is use it to his advantage. "I wanna see the guy I couldn't get out of my head for the last few months."

Jason sputters. " _Shut up. I thought we were meeting on Saturday?_ "

"For wedding stuff," Dick says, prompting.

" _For wedding stuff, yeah._ "

And Dick doesn't say anything to that, just waits, rolling out of bed and wandering over to his wardrobe.

He can tell the moment it clicks for Jason. " _Oh._ Oh, _okay. Yeah. Yeah, okay, I get it. You want me to ask you out. What the fuck._ "

Dick can't help it, he laughs. "No, I'm asking you out. If you're proposing," and it feels like tempting fate to say that now, but he pushes on, "Then I should be the one to ask you out." Part of him just wants to drag Jason back to his apartment, pick up exactly where they left off, but the rest of him is finding the idea of taking him out somewhere really, _really_ appealing.

" _Yeah, all right. Fair,_ " Jason says, as if he were just agreeing that, yes, it is a bit cloudy today, isn't it? " _Why?_ "

"Because I like you," Dick says bluntly, his lips turning down in a frown as he lets a pair of pants drop back down into the drawer. Did they get things mixed up here somewhere... Should he have been clearer from the start of this conversation? "I thought we'd sort of established that last night."

" _Yeah, it was established. Yeah, I._ " Jason sighs. " _Fuck, sorry. Now I'm the one being weird. I didn't think you'd... Never mind. Yeah, fuck it, yeah. Take me on a fucking date, Dickie. Hell, be my fucking date to the wedding._ "

"Jason..."

" _No, no, no, I'm fine. It's just... It's been a while, okay? People don't... I don't exactly go out a lot!_ "

Dick smiles. "It's been a while for me too, Jason. I'm--"

" _A workaholic who hasn't been on a date in years, I know,_ " Jason says quickly, dismissively. And.

 _Cass_.

"I can't believe she told you that," Dick groans, dropping his forehead against the top of the wardrobe. "She seriously told you that!"

" _I might have asked, too._ "

Dick only groans louder.

" _But you've got a date now, Wonder Boy,_ " Jason says and, for a moment, Dick's too relieved to hear whatever had taken hold over Jason disappear for good to realize just _what_ he said.

His heart skips a beat. "Oh, good. How's..." He laughs, shaking his head. He asked and he's still acting like this. Yeah, that's a sign of. Something, all right. "How's whenever we have free time? Whenever that is."

" _You mean the wedding_?"

"Yeah, I guess I do."

" _Good._ " Jason's voice is just a soft rumble now and Dick finds himself leaning into his phone, just hoping to listen to him for a little longer. " _Great. I should go. I..._ "

"Have work," Dick finishes for him. "I get it. I've gotta..."

" _You've gotta go talk to your old man._ " Jason finishes for him.

When Dick doesn't say anything, Jason goes on, " _Hey. Good luck. Talk to you later?_ "

"Yeah. Thanks. You too."

" _Anytime, Dickie._ " His voice is soft

Jason hangs up.

Dick hides his face in his hands, grinning widely. For once, his heart is perfectly calm after speaking to Jason. But the warm feeling spreading across his chest, down to his gut, to his toes?

He could get used to that.

-

By late morning, he's parking his bike in the manor's driveway. He takes off his helmet, shaking out his hair, and looks up at the imposing shape of the manor, his heart in his throat. Coming back, he feels a little like he did when he first went up that driveway as a child, with his hands and face pressed up against the window in the backseat of one of Bruce's cars, Alfred behind the wheel. A little apprehensive, a little nervous, and feeling a lot like he should be glad to be here.

It's all still the same, he realizes with a short laugh. From the gate, to the roundabout, to the heavy oak doors. All the way down to the way the doors _sound_ when they're pulled open, after Dick rings the doorbell. And to Alfred standing there on the other side of the door, though his eyes are widening in genuine surprise.

"Master... Master Dick."

Dick's lips quirk in a small smile. "Hey, Alfred. It's good to see you again."

Alfred raises a hand to cover his mouth, then quickly lowers it. But just that crack in the usually unflappable man is. Different.

"Master Bruce did say he was expecting a visitor today, but I never thought..." Alfred clears his throat and, once again, his posture is impeccable. "I did not expect to see you here, of all places."

Dick leans against the open door and huffs out a laugh, ducking his head. It doesn't come out as confident as he'd like. "Come on, don't look at me like that, Al. It wasn't that long ago that I last saw you."

"But not here, Master Dick. And certainly not when you were about to speak to Master Bruce. I... had not dared to hope for that."

"Al..." He knows Alfred doesn't mean it that way, but he still can't help but feel a pang of guilt at that.

"But it is good to see you here." Alfred smiles, smoothing the moment over with one of those small, genuine smiles of his. "Welcome back, Master Dick."

"Alfred, I..." Dick swallows, looks up at Alfred still smiling gently at him, and grins. He surges forward, throwing his arms around the old man. "Thanks, Alfred," he whispers over the man's shoulder. "I'm glad to be back." He laughs. "I think."

It's a moment before Alfred makes any kind of movement, but when he does, he lightly pats Dick's back and says, "Let us hope you will continue to think so," a tad pointed. He then steps back, once again the prim and proper butler. "Come along then. None of your siblings are home and Master Bruce is waiting for you."

Dick nods, drawing in a deep breath to compose himself. Drawing away, that's Alfred's own method of composing himself. "Yeah. Yeah, sure. Where is he, in his study?"

"Indeed. Would you like me to show you the way?"

Dick grins. "Nah, I still remember. Thanks." He waves at Alfred, one quick cheerful motion, then turns away toward the staircase.

"Do feel free to stop by the kitchen afterward. We might just still have some of those sweets you were always so fond of..."

"Wait." Dick whips his head around. "Your cookies? Did you make..." He trails off, finding nothing but empty space where Alfred had been standing a minute ago.

He shakes his head. Sneaky. And probably exactly what he should have expected of the man.

But with Alfred having disappeared off to wherever he usually goes (the kitchen, he's sure), that just leaves Dick and the staircase to stare each other down. And he thinks the staircase might actually be winning.

No more excuses.

It's quick enough, climbing the staircase to the second floor and finding the door to Bruce's study. He doesn't even have to think about it, not when his feet still remember the steps well enough. Hell, he's sure he could find it blindfolded.

On second thought. He is absolutely completely sure he did just that once as a kid, after breaking the chandelier for the first time, but before that time he found a way onto the roof.

He's smiling to himself by the time he reaches the closed door. Just how many times _did_ he have both Bruce and Alfred running after him in a panic? He hasn't thought about any of it in a while. No, it's all something he hasn't wanted to think about in a while, if he's honest.

Jesus, how is he going to have this conversation with Bruce when he can't even go a full five minutes without getting smacked in the face with nostalgia? He came here for a reason.

Before he can let himself think about it any longer, too much longer, Dick raises his head and knocks.

The answer's instant. "Come in."

One more fortifying breath and Dick nods to himself, then pushes open the door.

Another wave of nostalgia nearly bowls him over.

It's the same tableau he saw over and over again as a kid, as a teenager, even as an adult. It's Bruce behind the desk, paperwork spread out in front of him, laptop open. His face is only just beginning to smooth out, from that thoughtful, furrowed look he always gets while thinking, to a more neutral one, not quite curiosity. And his hair's just the slightest bit disheveled--just the slightest bit, but still a far cry from the usual immaculate coif he's got whenever he goes out to Wayne Enterprises--from running his hand through his hair while he works, Dick knows.

He saw the exact same thing while growing up, too many times to count: when he'd get back from school as a child, eager to show him a report card or graded assignment. Or as a teenager, when he'd come back from sports meets Bruce had missed, chattering a mile a minute about the team and the squad and _can you believe we won so easy? They had nothing on us._ Or even just coming back from spending time with his friends and _Diana's your friend, right? She can let Donna stay over, right? Please!_

Dick blinks back. Something. He's not sure what. All he's really sure of is that he never forgot anything. And, god, that he's missed Bruce.

"Dick." Bruce's voice isn't the usual one that would greet him the afternoons Dick would burst into his study. There's something quieter about it, more serious than how he would have ever spoken to Dick back then.

"Bruce," he manages to say, stepping past the threshold and closing the door behind him. "Hi."

Bruce stands and pushes his chair back into the desk, settling his hands on top of the backrest. He used to do that sometimes, too. When Dick was a teenager, after he'd mentioned to Bruce that speaking to him from the other side of the desk made him feel as if he were in the headmaster's office at school.

He still remembers.

"You can sit down, Dick." Bruce nods at the two smaller, comfortable chairs on Dick's side of the desk. "I can take the other one."

"Yeah. Yeah, I can sit." Dick sighs and shakes his head at himself. _Get it together, Grayson._ He doesn't have to twist himself into knots over this. It's fine.

Once they're both seated, side by side, Bruce turns his chair to face Dick, elbows resting loosely on his knees. It's deceptively relaxed posture, his face matching it, but Dick knows he's nowhere near that.

"You wanted to talk. Because it's still like I said, Donna can have her wedding here. Talking to me was never a condition for it."

"I know." Dick manages to smile a little. "But it's still like _I_ said, too. I don't want to run away from you anymore."

The ever-present crease between Bruce's eyebrows returns as he says, "You were never running away from me, Dick. I don't blame you for wanting space."

Dick frowns. "That's not what I..." Dick blows out a breath. "We were a mess whenever we were even in the same room, Bruce. I don't know if that qualifies as _wanting space_ anymore."

"You were growing up. It was only natural that you start clashing with your authority figure and--"

" _Bruce_. You don't have to quote your parenting books at me."

"I'm not, Dick. You _were_ getting older and it _was_ only natural that you start disagreeing with me and the way I did things. And I can admit I don't have the best temper, and neither do you. You just took some rather... extreme measures to deal with our disagreements when they were at their worst. Which is understandable when you factor in youthful rebellion."

Dick bristles. He remembers this. Bruce is doing it again, downplaying it all, trying to make it sound like it's just... He _knows_ what he's referring to. "My job isn't some _youthful rebellion_ ," he grits out.

"Dick..."

"That was what the last big fight was about, wasn't it? In Kate's wedding?"

Bruce frowns, the nearly impassive expression finally crumbling away. He hides his hands between his knees as his entire posture stiffens. "It wasn't exactly the life I wanted for you, Dick. You could have done anything, you're certainly smart enough for it. Then you were barely scraping by in college and you wanted to join the _police_."

"It wasn't for me, Bruce!" Dick spreads his hands, eyes widening in disbelief. After all these years, he comes all the way out here and Bruce has to bring _this_ up again? "I hated college and I wasn't going to change my mind, no matter how much you hounded me about it."

"I was only thinking of you, Richard," Bruce says, his expression darkening. "Of your future and your well-being."

"Oh, _thank you so much_ for that. For _caring_ so much you could never even talk to me."

A muscle in Bruce's jaw twitches. "I do care, Dick. I always have. You just don't want to see it."

"You have a funny way of showing it, you know? You were just mad you couldn't control--" Dick cuts himself off, locking a frustrated sound away behind his teeth. He can see where this is going. They're only just gearing up for a fight and it _won't_ stop. He'll shout, Bruce will shout back, and Dick will end up storming out of the manor and back to Blüdhaven, just like he feared.

And he just. He doesn't want that.

Dick runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head. He breathes in. Breathes out. No. No, he's not fighting today. This isn't what he came for. In a quieter tone, a tone he _forces_ to be quieter, he goes on, "I know you care, Bruce. And I know you had good reasons for wanting me to do something else with my life. I _get_ it. But we still just... It started before that, Bruce."

Bruce's frown has deepened, if that's even possible, and Dick has to stop himself from saying something he knows he'll regret. "We argued for months about your career plans, Richard. It was natural youthful rebellion before that." He taps a finger against his knee and concedes, "And maybe our personalities were clashing, once you started growing up."

Alfred said something like that once, didn't he?

" _Bruce_. I don't care what your temper's like or what my temper's like. It wasn't just clashing, it was all the time and..." he trails off, shaking his head. Running a hand down his face, he forces himself to relax in his chair. "I didn't come here to fight with you, Bruce," he says and winces at how his voice wavers at the end. "I just wanted to talk to you and. I don't know. Maybe manage to talk to each other every once in a while without fighting. I..." He huffs out a humorless laugh. "I miss you." And it's pathetic, the way his voice wavers again, so much so he has to look away, at one of the bookshelves surrounding them.

But that seems to be what gets through to Bruce. He blinks and his face softens and, though he hesitates before doing it, he reaches out and places a hand on Dick's knee. "Dick..."

Dick doesn't look at him. "Alfred told me once... That he thought you just didn't know how to deal with me growing up. But I thought it had to be more complicated than that. And that maybe I'd just..."

"Dick," Bruce says again. "There's no need for you to--"

And, suddenly, Dick doesn't want to hear this. Doesn't want to hear him go around in circles, doesn't want to follow him in the same ones, and. "I get you care, Bruce," he interrupts. "But I'm old enough to make my own decisions now. You don't have to look out for me with every little thing I do." He looks at Bruce again, frowning. "And you have to accept I'm not always going to do what you want."

Bruce sighs, but doesn't say anything about that last part, only, "I'm your father, Dick. Looking out for you's in the job description."

Dick can't help a small, shaky smile at that. "I thought you told me once you had no idea how to be a dad."

"You were also nine," Bruce says dryly. "And Alfred and Leslie both were on my case for not spending enough time with you."

"Really?"

And Bruce's raised eyebrow, the half-smile, that's closer to the meetings in the study he remembers. It's closer to the dad he remembers.

"Where do you think I got the parenting books from?"

Dick snorts. "I knew you weren't going to get those on your own." He touches Bruce's hand on his knee, then pulls it away, when Bruce draws his own hand away. "I don't want to fight anymore, Bruce," he adds. "But I guess I don't know how to talk to you without fighting anymore."

"It's my fault, too," Bruce says suddenly, so suddenly Dick's head snaps up in surprise. Admitting blame is... not something Bruce does often. "You might find this hard to believe, but I did greet you with no intention of arguing with you. There are a lot of things you've done I disagree with, that I still disagree with." He sighs. "But I've talked about it with Alfred. And Leslie. At length," he says, with a meaningful look. And, oh, does Dick know what long talks with Alfred and Leslie mean. "And I may disagree, but that doesn't mean I should... _berate_ you over it all so much. You're still my son. And I'm still... I'm still proud of you, no matter what. And I'm sorry you ever had reason to doubt that."

Dick blinks. Every single response he'd been formulating flies out of his head. Bruce just said...

He ducks his head, hiding his eyes, and stares down at his hands in his lap. In the grand scheme of things, it's nothing. It's nothing compared to the years spent arguing. But... "Thank... Thank you, Bruce."

"I'm sorry."

The rest of the conversation, as soon as Dick manages to speak past the sudden lump in his throat and Bruce coaxes him into actually wanting to speak, is meaningless small talk. Bruce asks him about where he's living, about his apartment, his friends, how the wedding planning's been going. And Dick asks about work, about people he hasn't seen in years, like Lucius Fox and whoever Bruce is dating right now. And it's not like their old conversations, it's not even close, but. It's not awful.

They manage to go almost an entire half an hour like that, until one of them brings up another sensitive subject, and Dick bristles and Bruce frowns and. And, for once, maybe discretion _is_ the better part of valor.

Dick stands and, using work in a few hours as an excuse, backs out of the study. He even manages a real smile, albeit a small one, before he's turning the doorknob, before Bruce is calling for him again.

"Dick."

"Yeah, Bruce?" he asks, turning around in the now open doorway.

"Come by for Sunday dinner? Everyone would love to have you here for it." And it's crazy, but he thinks Bruce might actually sound... hopeful?

"Yeah," he says, and surprises himself with a grin. "I'd love to. See ya, B."

"See you later, Dick."

He closes the door behind him and manages to walk the steps to the staircase at a normal, unhurried pace. Then he all but runs down the stairs and into the kitchen, where he does, in fact, find Alfred with a fresh batch of cookies.

He ends up spending only a few minutes with Alfred before he has to excuse himself, but the extra hug he gives Alfred and the cookies the old man lets him take home do wonders for calming his frazzled mood.

He actually did it.

Nothing's fixed. They only managed to have a conversation without biting each other's heads off for half an hour, an incredibly low bar.

But he'll be damned if he's not glad they even got to talk that much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a secret: Bruce Wayne is one of my favorite characters. Period. I'm just very. Picky with him, hahaha.
> 
> I won't dump my tl;dr on what Bruce's backstory is meant to be here exactly, but I might have drawn more than a bit from the recent Batman: The Telltale Series, which features a Bruce that I think might understand his own child growing up to be disappointed in their parental figure.
> 
> Anyway, I was hoping I'd have the next chapter done by now, but unfortunately, I have been... very busy. So that hasn't happened. Still, it's partially written and I'm working on it, so please bear with me a little longer! We'll see if I end up having to split the end into two or not too.
> 
> Thank you for reading! ♥


	8. will we be always

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i never thought that you would be the one to hold my heart/  
> [but you came around and you knocked me off the ground from the start](https://youtu.be/MeW0Sl0tNS8)
> 
> it was also the sappiest fucking thing all along
> 
> But wooow, it's been what? Three weeks? It's 2017 now! Sorry, so sorry! This chapter was surprisingly difficult to write. Who knew writing endings was, like, hard?? Like, what did I even write, wow??
> 
> In all seriousness though, thank you for sticking with me this long and please enjoy!

The last weeks before the wedding pass quickly. They're done, almost done, but in the last stretch, they barely have any time to themselves, much less any time to spend together. There are suddenly so many last-minute things to do, so many more minute items on Jason's checklist to get through. And it's endearing, really, how perfect Jason wants everything to turn out, how committed he is to it--and Dick does want it all to be perfect as well, could accept no less for his best friend, but he can't help just the slightest bit of bemusement at Jason every once in a while, when he kind of just really wants to tell him to take it easy.

Even if he immediately feels like a hypocrite for it, workaholic that he is.

But all the time they get for _them_ is a moment here and there while getting something else sorted out, maybe half an evening spent together. It's not much, nowhere near enough, but the stolen moments are exciting in their own right, good enough in their own right.

All too soon though, time's just about up and it's done. Everything is done.

Until the night before the wedding finds them in Jason's apartment. The air's starting to get warmer as summer closes in on the city, warm enough to drive them out of Jason's living room and onto his balcony floor, both sitting side by side against the railing. Artemis and Biz (who turns out to be this big, burly guy Dick's never seen in his _life_ ) are actually home this time, but seem content enough to leave the two of them be. The only sign Jason and Dick can even get of their presence is their voices drifting out into the balcony, snatches of conversation every so often that fade into background noise, mingling with the sounds of the city behind them.

Gotham's never quiet, after all, and the combined sounds are almost soothing to Dick, enough to make his eyelids grow heavy. Jason's close proximity, the warmth radiating from him, isn't helping either.

He and Jason have got their shoulders pressed up against each other and Dick considers pressing up just a little closer, closing whatever gap there still is between them. And he feels a little ridiculous being hesitant about it, after some of the things they've already gotten up to, even if they haven't exactly agreed on much beyond the fact that they both _want_ this, that they've got a date the next day, and at this point it probably shouldn't even be necessary to--

"I can hear you thinking, Dickie." Jason's voice breaks into his thoughts as he lifts an arm to drape over Dick's shoulders.

Dick shakes his head, not really surprised to find himself smiling. Yeah. Fuck it. The conversation they already had is good enough.

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it." He leans into Jason's touch, lets his eyes close for a moment where he's sitting, when an idea, a half-remembered thought, strikes him. "You know," he says slowly. "You made me a promise."

Jason groans. "And you remembered it," he says, clearly not needing to be reminded just _what_ promise Dick is talking about.

Dick grins. "Yeah, of course I did. I've just been _dying_ to know what happened."

The truth is it doesn't seem as important anymore, not after these past almost three months, but he's still very much curious. Especially if it's got Jason reacting like this.

"Of course you fucking have." Jason huffs out a breath, looking away. "Look. It ain't like I'm holding a grudge or anything. And you didn't even really... It's not like it was really your fault, you know? You weren't the biggest asshole there or anything."

"I'm flattered," Dick says dryly, resting his head on Jason's shoulder to hide his smile.

Jason groans. "Shut up. I'm trying to be serious here."

Dick hums in answer. "Okay, okay, I'm listening." He pats Jason's chest lightly, without bothering to lift his head. "Tell me what made you so mad that day."

"Shut up." The arm around his shoulders tightens and Jason audibly draws in a breath. "Do you remember... at school? I just hung out with, shit, your sister and the drama club. I didn't even make friends with Roy or Kori till years later."

"Vaguely."

"Yeah, so you know high school. I wasn't really always great with people there, I guess. Gotham Academy was a rich kid school and I..." He shrugs, the movement jostling Dick slightly. "I was only there 'cause Kate suggested it, you know?"

He's actually not surprised to hear he didn't always get along with others, and it takes him a moment to realize why. Then he frowns, just about able to grasp at a sudden memory, a flash of the scrawny kid Jason used to be, and... "That why you got in so many fights?"

Jason snorts. "Yeah, you remember _that_. That was part of the reason, yeah. Didn't really help my reputation either."

"Your reputation as a harmless, scrawny drama geek?"

"What? _No._ What the fuck, Dickie, I--"

"Trust me. That was what most people thought of you, fights or no fights." Dick cranes his neck to look up at Jason, grinning. "I get it though. The fighting thing. One thing I bet no one there ever told you about is how many fights _I_ used to get in when I first started out." He snorts out a laugh. "Turns out rich kids don't like circus kids either. They'd just had to get it over it by the time you started going there." He shrugs, as much as he can while he's still practically draped over Jason.

"You didn't." And Dick's pretty sure he's not imagining how Jason sounds absolutely _delighted_.

Dick moves to rest his chin on Jason's shoulder, eyes still on him. "I did. So what happened?" he prompts.

"So... Reputation as a harmless drama geek or not," Jason says slowly, shooting Dick a half-hearted glare. "I think you'll get why a lot of kids there didn't like me. So when they found something that... I don't know, something that they could poke at, I guess, you fuckin' bet they didn't hesitate to take advantage of it."

"Okay..." If he's completely honest, Dick still doesn't really see what this has to do with him, but he's willing to wait and see where this is going.

Jason looks away from Dick, brow furrowing. "There was this... Thing. And I wasn't exactly subtle about it, you know? I thought I was. But I guess fifteen year old me didn't the know the fucking definition of it." And Jason seems to be warming to the topic now, getting into the story, his words coming faster and surer than the hesitant way they had been when he started. "So there I fucking was, obvious as hell and _some_ people picked up on it and of course I fucking thought you were involved, because it was all about you. Fuck, it _was_ you."

It... _was_ him?

Dick experiences a moment of utter, complete confusion, as if Jason were speaking a language he'd never even heard before. Just a moment.

Then it's like being doused in cold water.

It clicks for Dick, fast and sudden, all the clues, all the hints Jason's dropped over the last months, _everything_ coming together at once and _how did he never see it before_.

He straightens up, turning wide disbelieving eyes on Jason. "You had a thing for me," he says, not bothering to wait for Jason to finish. Startled, Jason looks away, flushing, but Dick goes on, undeterred, "That's it, isn't it? You had a thing for me when we were kids. You seriously had a thing for me, I..." He shakes his head helplessly, his heart in his throat, choking him. " _How_? I never even gave you the time of day back then!"

Jason grumbles something under his breath, something Dick can't quite catch, then, "Like that woulda' stopped anyone. You got any fucking clue how many people probably felt the same way?"

"What?"

It's not a denial.

" _Nothing_. Look. You were popular and..." Jason pulls away, scrubbing a hand down his cheek. He laughs, a short, self-deprecating sound and his mouth twists in something that is most definitely not a smile. "Look at you, Dickie. Who wouldn't love you?"

Dick's heart pounds once, _hard_ , in his chest and it _aches_. Down to his heart, bone deep, and he wants nothing more than to gather Jason into his arms, to pull him close and kiss him breathless, something, _anything_ , just to never have to see that look on his face again.

"I thought I was a dickhead," he says weakly, because he's just. He can focus on Jason, he can try to soothe whatever's come over him. But he's just not ready to face the implications of that statement on _him_.

"Yeah, that too."

In the silence that follows, Dick reaches for Jason's hand, holds it between both of his when Jason lets him take it. "I'm sorry. But you shouldn't..." He tries for a smile, but isn't quite sure what the end result looks like. "You know anyone would be insane not to love _you_ , right?"

Jason breathes out a sigh, but doesn't pull his hand away. "Sure. Whatever. I had a story to tell you, didn't I?" He waits for Dick's nod, before saying, "People figured it out, because I wasn't fucking subtle. And certain friends of yours, or not friends of yours. Fuck, I don't know. Point is, I think everyone fucking knew and _some_ people thought it was fucking hilarious. And they thought it was fucking hilarious to spread it around. And when you're fifteen, it's _humiliating_ to have half the school laughing at you behind your back when you can _tell_ they're doing it, before they..." He huffs. "Before it's actually _in_ your face when they're harassing you over it. And when the charity case's got a thing for the son of the richest man in town... It's funny, right?"

"Jason..."

"It wasn't like it was _everyone_ , but some of these people were your asshole friends and I thought..."

Dick winces. The friends he's kept since then, his closest friends, he's happy with them, more than happy, really. But he can't deny that, as a teenager, he didn't always keep the best company with his casual friends. Because he'd tried, he'd tried so hard to deal with his own reputation as a charity case, to get past it once they got tired of fighting him and... It probably wasn't a good idea. This sounds like just the kind of thing some of those spoiled Gotham Academy kids would have done.

"I thought you had something to do with it. That's why I was so fucking mad at you and why I went straight up to you. But then you just looked at me like you didn't even know who I was."

And that. Had to have hurt in its own way.

"I guess I kind of did... have something to do with it," he says on a sigh. "It was my friends and I never noticed and I should have and... I'm so sorry. I..." He shakes his head, distressed. "And you still want to be with me _now_? After all of that?"

Jason gives him a withering look. "It was seven years ago, Dickie. I can hold a grudge, yeah, but we're grownups now."

"But you can hold a grudge."

Jason smiles, tiny but there, and counts off on the fingers of his free hand. "Pfft. Didn't I tell you I like this you better anyway? We both grew the fuck up. I don't think either of us has got that kind of asshole friend anymore. And it's been pretty good getting to know this grownup you."

"I'm flattered," Dick says again, sure it's nowhere near as glib as he'd like it to be.

Jason presses his lips into a thin line, not quite frowning, then goes on, "It's been so fucking long, Dickie. And I _like_ the you now," he repeats. "I didn't even wanna bring it up."

"And I asked you to tell me." Dick sighs. "Sorry, I--"

Jason laughs, actually laughs. Dick looks up at him, torn between confusion and being affronted, but Jason only shakes his head, a genuine smile settling on his face. "You know, it's real fucking nice of you to be so concerned. But you don't gotta be."

Frowning, Dick looks down at the hand between his, where Jason still hasn't tried to draw it away. "Maybe I want to," he whispers, raising the hand to press his lips to one of the knuckles. "I can do that, right?"

Jason exhales, the sound somewhere between surprised and a laugh. And he does draw his hand back then, shaking his head in disbelief. "How are you fucking real, you asshole?"

"What?" he asks, eyes wide and guileless. Or as much as he can make them. "Did I do something again?"

"Not this time," Jason grumbles. He stares at him for a moment, seeming to consider something, then leans forward, cupping Dick's chin in his hand. "Not this time, pretty bird."

Dick starts, flushing in some mix of surprise and delight. He manages to grin though, meeting Jason's eyes. "You're a lot more of a softy than you pretend to be."

Jason scoffs. "Don't go ruining my reputation now, Dickiebird."

Dick hums. "What reputation? Didn't I tell you? You were the scrawny drama geek."

"The _angry_ scrawny drama geek, thank you." Jason's tone is light now, much lighter than before, and Dick can actually believe it'll stay that way this time.

"Right, right. _So_ angry, I better watch out for those noodle arms you had back then. Who knows what--"

Laughing, Jason cuts him off with a kiss and. Well. Dick completely forgets what he meant to say after.

He doesn't really remember any of what he wanted to say for a good while.

Instead, "It's getting late," is what he manages to say when he pulls away, when he registers the silence from inside the apartment. Have Artemis and Biz gone to bed already?

Jason glances past the balcony railing, out into the darkened city, then back to the dim lights inside the apartment. "Looks like it."

He doesn't. Really want to go, but. "We need to be up pretty early, to..."

"Stay the night," Jason says suddenly.

Dick's eyes widen. Jason's been... skittish about this. He's been careful about leaving just at the right time whenever he's been to Dick's apartment, about reminding Dick of the (admittedly short) distance between their cities whenever they're at Jason's. And Dick has respected that, respects it. But for him to just offer to let him stay right now...

"Your roommates are here," Dick points out carefully.

"Uh-huh. They're in their rooms. And they won't bother us in my room."

"And," Dick says, because he _has_ to know just what Jason's trying to get at here. Especially if he wouldn't be taking the couch here. "You still want me to stay. The night before the wedding."

"Uh-huh." Jason's lips quirk, but he doesn't go on.

"When we've got a lot of work to do tomorrow," Dick says slowly.

"Uh-huh." His smile widens, turning crooked.

Dick's beginning to feel a little like he's being made fun of.

He turns his head, Jason's hand dropping from his chin, and surges forward to cup Jason's face, inches from his own. "Jason Peter Todd," he says, carefully enunciating every syllable, and smirks. "Just what are your intentions?"

Jason smirks in response, raises an eyebrow, and places his hands over Dick's own. "Nothing that ain't your intentions, too, Dickie."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Gently, he lowers Dick's hands, holding them in the space between their laps.

"I don't know... I'm not sure what they are. You're gonna have to show me."

Jason laughs, loud and bright, and closes the distance between them, laughing into Dick's mouth.

They don't talk much after that.

-

Kori and Donna's ceremony the next day is beautiful.

Standing by Donna, Diana and Cassie at his other side, Dick has the best view of the proceedings he could ask for. He can see the looks Donna and Kori keep shooting each other as the officiant speaks, the warmth in them, the way Donna holds Kori's hands so tightly. And his heart clenches--in pride, in happiness, he doesn't know--at the sight.

He catches Jason's eye at one point, flashes him a grin that he instantly returns. And he pretends not to notice when Jason discreetly wipes at his eyes later, when the officiant's declaring them married. Then when Kori dips Donna into a smiling, laughing kiss, when Donna throws her arms around Kori's neck to pull her closer, closer, closer.

A wolf whistle interrupts the moment, then Artemis' voice comes loud and clear, "Breathe, Donna, breathe!" And she only laughs all the harder as they straighten up, grinning at their audience.

And just like that, the ceremony's over. They're married. Donna and Kori Troy-Anders, Anders-Troy, Troy and Anders, they're _married_.

All in all, Dick is... actually proud. _Happy_ to have been able to help give his best friend this. Even if, when they all file back down the aisle, he has to stop. He has to hang back while everyone's looking the other way, wipe away tears of his own before they can fall.

They actually did it.

And now Donna and Kori are going away for a whole year and he'd been putting that thought off, hadn't really let himself focus on it and _now_ it has to hit him. _Now_ his heart clenches again, this time in something close to dread. And he's so happy for her, couldn't possibly be happier for her, and he couldn't possibly bring himself to mention this to her, but _goddamn_ is he going to miss Donna. Even if it is just for a year.

Jason notices, because of course he does--what doesn't that man notice--and does him the courtesy of not mentioning his tears either. Instead, he hangs back as well and comes up next to Dick, and leads him by the elbow to follow the crowd of guests, to the reception.

"Thank you," Dick whispers at him, leaning into Jason's touch, and even manages a smile.

"Don't mention it," Jason mutters, and just for a moment, his expression mirrors the way Dick feels, before it smoothes out again, into a smirk Dick doesn't believe for a second. "Can't have one of the best men missing the reception. You've got a speech to give!"

Dick groans. "I think I forgot everything I wanted to say."

Jason's fingers drum a pattern against Dick's arm, soft and soothing. "It'll come to you. You've got that charm thing."

He winks and Dick's laughing before he even realizes it, shaking his head. "Oh yes, I'm _very_ charming."

"Better be. Since you've got a date and all tonight, too," Jason says, not quite looking at him now. He slips his arm around Dick's waist and Dick laughs, waiting all of a second before he's wrapping his own arm around Jason's waist in return.

Fuck it. Might as well make it obvious they're on a date here.

"After all that work, I think we deserve some time off," Dick says lightly, letting Jason lead him to where the rest of the wedding party has gone.

He feels someone's eyes on him, halfway there. He turns his head and spots Bruce, of course, standing with Diana and Clark, and he's spotted Dick, all three of them have. Clark gives them a jaunty little wave, a thumbs up from Diana, and Bruce. Bruce is still, so still, for a moment, that Dick's steps falter. But then he raises an eyebrow, a hint of a smile stealing across his face, and he raises the glass in his hand in a mock salute, before turning back to his conversation with Diana and Clark.

It feels a little like. Approval. Another step.

Jason gives him a questioning look, but Dick only smiles, close-mouthed, and shakes his head as he tugs Jason toward where the wedding party is gathering.

Whatever that was, he'll take it for the moment.

Later, he can't remember a word of what he says during his speech, a word of what Jason says during _his_. What he does remember is the smiles on Kori and Donna's faces, the wink Jason shoots him during his own speech, the way Lua Anders bursts into tears when someone calls for a toast and how long Lyta Prince's stoic expression lasts (not long at all). There's all their friends--from people he sees often like Roy, to old classmates like Lilith, who he hasn't seen in years--family, the looks on their faces, the way they laugh.

It's like a series of snapshots, fuzzier the longer the night goes on (and after one drink turns to two, turns to three).

And Jason's by his side the whole time after their speeches, a constant presence, with a comment here and there to make him laugh as they get everyone settled. But better still, he makes _Jason_ laugh and he's not sure he cares about anyone finding out what an embarrassing sap he is anymore. He could just listen to Jason laugh for hours on end.

Jesus. He has to remind himself he actually was smooth once. Sort of.

They only somehow manage to lose each other by the time the Kori and Donna's first dance comes around, and he has to stop and watch.

Kori and Donna hold each other tightly, closely, eyes never straying from each other as they sway to the music. And it hits Dick, yet again, they're going away for a whole year. They're going away for a whole year, _but_ they're doing it together, right after their wedding and.

All right.

They're going to be okay.

He turns around, away from the dance floor, but doesn't get far before someone's voice is stopping him.

"Hey, Short-pants! How's it going?" Gar's suddenly behind him, leaning over his shoulder with a bright grin--and just _where_ did he come from?

Dick can't even roll his eyes. "You're never letting that go," he says dryly.

"Nope," Vic answers, appearing over his other shoulder with a grin to match Gar's. "Those exercise clothes of yours gave us enough material for _years_ , dude. Can't skimp on 'em."

Dick scoffs and does roll his eyes this time, but he can't help but an edge of fondness creeps into his tone when he speaks anyway, one he doesn't bother to try to hide. "I'm glad I can always count on my closest friends."

"You bet!"

"Just don't make us ever look at the short pants again."

Dick snorts. "Nah, they're retired for good. Though I guess if you _asked_ \--"

Vic bursts out laughing, shaking his head. "I think there's someone else who should probably ask first." He drapes an arm around Dick's shoulders, still grinning. "Hell... You don't wanna keep your date waiting any longer, do you?" With a wink, he jerks his head toward the other edge of the dance floor, where manages to catch sight of Jason, standing with his arms crossed, no doubt keeping an eye on things.

Dick frowns up at Vic. "You already know?" he asks, as if he hadn't been all over Jason just an hour ago.

Gar's laughing as well before he can even finish the sentence, shaking his head. "Come on, you didn't really think we wouldn't find out, did you? And after that huge crush he had on you in high school..." Gar shrugs.

"How did everyone know but me?" Dick grumbles under his breath, but of course the two stooges manage to hear him.

"You're adorable, Dick."

"Don't worry about it, man. Just go have fun."

Then Vic's lightly shoving him away in Jason's general direction and, with one last wave from the both of them, they're gone, as if they'd melted away somewhere.

He's not entirely sure what just happened.

But he does have a date to get back to.

From where she's still wrapped around Donna in the center of the dance floor, Kori catches his eye when he's halfway to Jason. She raises an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips, before turning her attention back to Donna. He doesn't really know what she was trying to convey. And he's not sure he wants to know.

Just a little behind them, he manages to catch a glimpse of Cass, too, just stepping onto the dance floor with Steph. And the sight of them smiling and laughing at each other quickens his steps, has him hurrying all the more to Jason's side.

Jason doesn't notice him until he's right behind him, until Dick's wrapping his arms around his waist and Jason startles, twisting around to look at him. Dick grins up at him, until Jason rolls his eyes and smiles back. And maybe he has had a few more drinks than he meant to, judging by the _extra_ bubbly feeling that rises and spreads across his chest when Jason smiles at him.

But it mean he's just tipsy enough that, when Jason turns around in his arms, raising an eyebrow, he can throw his arms around Jason's neck and drag him out onto the dance floor.

"Come on," he says, when Jason follows him easily. "What's a wedding date without a dance?"

"Huh, good point," Jason says, wrapping his arms around Dick now.

A slow song's just ending by the time they're in position, replaced by a faster, more upbeat one. And, with another grin, Dick draws away just enough to pull Jason into a fast dance, laughing all the while. And Jason's stiff at first, self-conscious, but he's had a few drinks himself and it melts away soon enough and he lets Dick lead for half the song, before drawing him back for him to lead.

Dick's just about to switch that up again, when _that_ song ends and another, new slow song starts and soon enough they're pressed right up against each other again, swaying to the music.

"So," Jason starts, almost hesitantly. "This date everything you dreamed of?"

Dick hums in answer and pretends to think that over. "You know what? Yeah. I'm on a date with scrawny little drama geek Jason Todd..." He leans in close to whisper in Jason's ear, "Though he's not just scrawny little geek Jason anymore, he got really hot." He leans back again, grin widening at the sight of a blush creeping up Jason's ears. "And it's a better date than I could have imagined."

Jason huffs, looking away. "Yeah, well..." he trails off, but the look on his face isn't really _displeased_.

"I mean it," Dick says softly, sincerely now. "I'm... I'm glad we ended up working on all of this together. It's... It's really good to have gotten to know you." He breathes out a laugh. "And to end up here."

"Dick," Jason groans. "You don't gotta get all sappy on me now."

"But I want to! I've got this _amazing_ date and I'm really looking forward to seeing what our next date will be and I'm pretty sure--"

Jason leans down to capture Dick's lips in a kiss and he's sure, he's absolutely _certain_ , that's Roy he hears wolf whistling, but he forgets it almost as soon as it happens.

He can't bring himself to even care.

Because the truth is, he's pretty damn okay with what Jason keeps doing now when he wants him to stop talking.

He just grins against Jason's mouth, feels Jason do the same, arms tightening around him.

"Just remember to ask me on a second date," Jason says when he finally pulls away.

"Hm?"

"Oh yeah, Dickie. Fucking woo me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone for reading, commenting, leaving kudos, bookmarking, everything! Every single bit of feedback has been amazing and I am so glad people enjoyed this silly fic, haha. Especially this silly fic that was my first real multi-chapter fic.
> 
> There are so many things that just didn't make it onto the fic that I wish I could have worked in, from full scenes, to snatches of scenes, to just lines on their own. I was actually kind of sad to have had to cut out a lot of them, haha, and might just end up throwing them up (completely unpolished) on tumblr sometime in the future. We'll see!
> 
> But now I go hibernate until whenever I next have another fic partially written. In the meantime, feel free to [drop me a line](http://bleakeisland.tumblr.com)! I'm not there very often, but I'm there.
> 
> Happy holidays and happy new year! ♥


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